#maybe I’m wrong though but I can’t think of any other reason why they’d be botching the story this bad already

[yourqueenb]

Also quick focus on Mal… If I ignore some of the things that happened in this chapter, I still like his “reunion” scene from last week. It was fun and felt kind of like old times. But when you factor those things in — mainly the fact that he said he thought we were dead — the way he acted last chapter is so upsetting and doesn’t even make sense now. If he really thought MC was dead, why wasn’t he more shocked to see her? If he couldn’t express that during/after the heist, why couldn’t he express that on the dock or at camp or literally anywhere else? Why has everything been so rushed? What are the writers doing??

[tizeline]

I just finished binge reading everything under your separated AU tag and I have QUESTIONS!! (that mostly just stem from me being a mikey fan) Be prepared as I will ramble.

So. My #1 burning mikey question is as follows. Why does he decide to, you know, NOT eradicate all of humanity? Does he just do it because all of his family is? Ugh it’s hard to phrase this but I’m wondering if Draxum’s word means so much to him he changes his entire world view, since draxum was the person who made him believe humans are evil, if he changed his mind he must be right? If he is the very last one to change his worldview, how does he react to the person who essentially indoctrinated him into believing humans are evil just going back on his word? Would he just, idk, try to keep going by himself (proper villain arc style!) Or does he get his own little human/outside friend to convince him, like his two other brothers do? What would happen if instead of a human/outside friend to convince him humans are okay, he gets someone like say, leatherhead, who was experimented on by the earth protection force?(Since in 2012, he was experimented on by the Kraang, but I don’t see a way of that happening when they were locked away his entire life) Huzzah for conflict! or better yet, That same leatherhead convinces him humans are okay? Though that those seem out of character…. And of course maybe it would be mondo gecko, who he befriends and then finds out was human just a few months before and still views himself as such…. So many possibilities!!

speaking of other characters, do the Drax trio have any Yōkai friends? Like one Sunita, or maybe even one yoichi usagi, per chance? Though I’m pretty sure they’d be pro-human so… idk how that would work. The question still stands.

Also, seeing as you mentioned Raph starts to hang out with Leo,Donnie and April, how does mikey react to that? Would he feel abandoned or left out? (Who am I kidding of course he would but like. It does t hurt to ask!)

And seeing as he’s alone now and he’s not training all the time (I hope) this feels like a good Segway into asking: does he have as much of a love for art as in canon? What are his and Raphs interests (since we know Leo’s!)

thanks! I love ur work and ur art and ur Au and ur mother for creating you.

P.s. I had another question I wanted to ask but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was rn so you can expect more asks from me in the near future ;)

Hoo boy, long asks mean long answers, strap in folks!

So EXACTLY what causes Mikey to change his mind on everything is something I'm still working out the details of. Draxum definitely plays a part in it, considering how much faith Mikey has in his dad, Draxum of all people changing his mind would be one of the biggest reasons for Mikey to also second guess himself. It's not like he'd instantly change his entire worldview though, after Draxum gives up on the Evil Plan, Mikey, or rather Dr. Positive, tries to motivate him to come up with a new plan for a short while. He gives up after Draxum makes it clear that they're Done™ with that, and Mikey isn't very keen on trying to do the Evil Plan all on his own considering HIS ENTIRE FAMILY decided to just give up on it. That doesn't mean he'll suddenly start liking humans, he still thinks they suck ass, he just isn't actively trying to cause their downfall anymore.

For both Leo and Raph, a big reason why they changed their minds on humanity was because they interacted with humanity and learned how wrong many of their previously held assumptions about them were. It makes sense that that's the catalyst for both of their redemption-arcs, and in that sense it also makes sense for Mikey to unlearn his prejudices against humans by interacting with them. HOWEVER! You bring up an interesting point, for Mikey specifically it would probably be more effective for another yōkai/mutant to give him a new perspective considering he'd be a lot more willing to listen to them rather than a human. I haven't been planning on including Leatherhead or Mondo, but it would be fun idea so I might do so.?That being said, getting to actually know a human later on would still be a good learning-experience for Mikey, I'm kinda tempted to bring in Woody from the IDW comics into the story too, for example.

So then we get to the topic of friends! Despite The Drax Bros growing up in yōkai society, they're still a bit isolated. They can go and hang out in The Hidden City basically whenever they want (as soon as they're old enough to do so), but when it comes to actually getting close to other yōkai and forming proper friendships...? So first of all, Draxum has a Reputation™ amongst yōkai, he's a well known figure and a lot of people are honestly a bit intimidated by him. Most yōkai thinks it's best to just stay out of his way, which includes staying out of the way of his weird kids. Basically, the bros' association with Draxum has a tendency to get in the way of them actually befriending anyone :/ Not just that, but while there are certainly yōkai who don't have the most positive feelings about humans, the Draxum family's stance on humanity is very extreme, which even most "human-critical" yōkai will find off-putting.

All of this is to say that no, they don't have a lot of friends haha. Leo hangs out at Run Of The Mill all the time, and Hueso definitely has a soft spot for him, but at most he's only acquainted with the other employees and regulars there. I'd imagine that includes Sunita, considering her dad works there and as such they've interacted on occasion. But again, Leo's extreme view on humanity makes most people uncomfortable and as such they'll mostly indulge him in civil small-talk to avoid getting on Draxum's bad side. Raph and Mikey...? They might have some casual friendly connections with some yōkai in The Hidden City, especially Mikey can be quite sociable if he can keep himself from ranting about humans for two seconds lmao. But for the most part, honestly, I think The Drax Bros are content staying a bit closed off from others outside their family. The three of them are very close and they know they can trust each other, that last part's important considering their Big Plans aren't exactly.... legal.... and as such they need to remain secretive about everything to others. I feel like they'd mostly start bothering finding new friends after they decide to abandon their Destroy All Humans Plan.

(Sidenote, I really like when Usagi shows up in TMNT stories, but I've never consumed any Usagi media myself. Almost all I know about both Miyamoto and Yuichi I know through TMNT and as such I don't feel confident enough in my knowledge about the Usagis to include either of them in the story. I HAVE been planning on reading the comics, so maybe I'll include him at a later date??)

But OH BOY Mikey's reaction to Leo and Raph starting to hang out with Donnie and April?? :D Both of Mikey's older brothers ditching him to hang out with their new little brother and his annoying human friend??? :D OH BOY YOU HAVE NO IDEA! :D

Listen, look at this from Mikey's perspective: You finally find your Long Lost Brother™ after thirteen years of him being presumed dead, great! Small problem, he's been brainwashed by the evil humans who kidnapped him and now thinks YOU'RE evil for some reason? No matter! He just needs some time to adjust! So you're patient with him, you show him kindness and understanding while gently trying to guide him back to the good side, to his REAL family. You do EVERYTHING right, and how does that bastard repay you?? HE instead turn your brothers against YOU! He ruins your plans of saving the world! Everything was PERFECT before HE showed up and started complicating things, and now your family is BROKEN and everything sucks! And it can all be blamed on Donnie.

...Hate is a very strong feeling, I don't feel like Mikey is really capable of feeling something like that, at the very least not against someone he does still technically considers family. Rather, I think the best way to describe the feeling Mikey is about to start feeling about Donnie would be bitterness. Mikey takes all the negative feelings, all the hurt and confusion about the situation he's ended up in and directs it all at Donnie. Because it all comes back to him, doesn't it? It was only after Donnie got reunited with them that things started going wrong. And from Mikey's point of view, Donnie has basically stolen Mikey's brothers from him. Needless to say, Mikey is dealing with a lot of negative emotions that he doesn't really know how to cope with them aside from taking it out on Donnie.

Donnie, who is so used to being love-bombed by Mikey is VERY flabbergasted over him basically just completely flipping a switch overnight. Mikey will just be glaring at Donnie like he's trying to explode him with his mind and Donnie's just "???who are you and what have you done with Mikey???". He starts acting really hostile towards Leo and Raph as well, it's all very weird!

Back to me not having figured out the details of the entirety of Mikey's character arc, one thing I'm contemplating is how long I wanna drag it out for. For example, I know I want to change up the events of the movie at least a bit in the AU for the sake of novelty. One way of doing that could potentially be for it to focus not on Leo's and Raph's ever growing tension in their relationship, but rather focus on Donnie's and Mikey's relationship? It'd be extra interesting if Mikey hadn't at least completely gotten over his hang-ups about humans when we bring Casey Jr into the situation. CJ looks at Mikey and sees a younger version of the man that was basically an uncle to him, like family, and Mikey looks at CJ and is just like "ew. human." and that'd be a whole dilemma to deal with. But as interesting as that could be, I'm scared that it'd just get tedious if Mikey is stuck in angst-mode for too long. We still have the entirety of season two to get through before we get to the movie, it's gonna be a while is what I'm saying. Then again, character growth takes time, maybe Mikey reconciles with his own family and starts the path to befriending Donnie by the end of season two, but they run into some roadblocks along the way. They ARE very different people, even in canon, I'd imagine it might take some time for them to properly befriend each other.

But next question - Mikey and Raph's interests! Mikey already likes to draw, but he'd definitely start doing it way more after the season 1 finale (oh wow, a healthy coping mechanism, imagine that!) Raph... Raph likes training. Even after it becomes clear that they're not doing their Big World Domination Plan anymore and as such don't really need to train as much, he still does it just because he genuinely enjoys it. He becomes proper friends with Casey the season one finale and she also really likes training, so it becomes a bonding experience for them. Leo and Donnie later on also introduces him to human media like Jupiter Jim and the Lou Jitsu movies and he gets really into it too XD Nerds!!

... Oh man, I think that's everything! Anyway, thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying the AU so much :D

[ochrearia]

Biff and YS sillies.

Shakes these two violently. If anyone gets to be the big brother and little brother dynamic first it's these two and that's me being entirely biased towards my own BF but like IVE ALREADY BEEN WRITING THESE ASSHOLES INTERACTING FOR MONTHS IN POPR SO IT MAKES SENSE

I also almost gatekept this? But then I remember most of you guys here only found me off of Poly Propaganda so like. Why would I gatekeep a BF you guys are familiar with reading about

BFs in this drabble: PoPr!BF (Biff, mine) Yourself (YS)

Perhaps he was just losing his edge. Or maybe the world was starting to be kind enough to let him feel like a person again. Either way there was something so incredibly tempting about pushing buttons when Yourself knew he could get away with it. He was good at getting away with a lot of things. “The incentive is in your reactions, Biff. You want me to stop being obnoxious right back at you? Stop reacting then.” 

“See this is on you, really, because I may not be smart but I can recognize the potential to be the worst little shit imaginable with the information you just gave me.” Biff grinned, flopping over YS’s chest intentionally. “And since we’re the same person it’s very likely that any of the ways my buttons can be pushed are the same ways yours can. As you have already proved by pushing a bunch of mine with no prior knowledge.”

“Ooh, big words from the little man.” YS continued to tease instead. He didn’t want to admit at any point that Biff was possibly his favorite, because that wasn’t fair to the others. They’d just known each other the longest, and while they all had the same potential for it, Biff was really the definition his mind jumped to when he thought of the two words ‘little brother’. He wasn’t saying that out loud for shit.

“Patronizing me is going to be your worst mistake.” Biff threatened, grinning wildly. “I think you need to be knocked down a few pegs, you massive asshole. If my buttons are similar to yours then this isn’t going to keep going well for you. No one knows what pisses me off more than me! Meaning I know how to piss you off too.” The smaller fished his phone from his pocket, pushing his elbows against the silly counterpart’s chest to prop himself up. YS watched with a raised eyebrow as he typed something.

“Oh that better fucking not be the watermelon song.”

“What’s wrong with the watermelon song?” Biff asked innocently as the aforementioned song started blasting from his phone at full volume. “Gee, I don’t know about you, but you know what pisses me off? A strong earworm that I know won’t shut up for at least a few days.”

YS had half a mind to shove this dickhead off of him. That was, at first, something he’d thought was a difference between them- how affectionate Biff was, and how he was keen to show that affection by being touchy. Though in reality it hadn’t been a difference at all, something which having met all these other selves has proven. Apparently he gave really good hugs. Something less known was that he stole away just as much comfort from them as he was intending to give. Contact was nice when your body was always cold for as long as you could remember. Pushing him off would just mean more cold, again.

He settled for roughly ruffling his little brot- Biff’s- hair instead. “You’re- okay what’s a good word that would actually make you mad… I’ve exhausted the punch power of things like ‘dumbass’ and ‘shitter’ by using them too often. They’ve lost their meanings.”

“I have literally done nothing wrong and you’re mean to me for no reason.”

“I’m adding ‘a big fat liar’ to the list by the way.” YS snarked back immediately. “Turn this shit off, I’ve already heard this damn thing several times too many for my lifetime.”

“Mean to me.” Biff repeated, not turning it off and just lowering the volume instead. “Can’t believe you’re such a fucking Battleblock Theater hater.”

“I have literally never played that game and I never want to because of you and this song. Turn it off or I’m shoving you away and you will leave back through the mirror without a hug today.”

“Fuck!” Biff swore, mad that his attempt to push YS’s buttons was instead ending in more of his being pushed. “You’re such an asshole! Big, stupid, dumb fuckin’! Jerk!”

YS burst into laughter, rough with disuse. Low snickering that was prone to snorts as he tried to breathe between them. He wasn’t one to laugh very much, and even when he did it was only for a few seconds at a time. It was incredibly rare for him to go on an actual giggle fit, not even believing he still could after everything. Then again, he’d also believed he would never get to feel warm again either. Or that he’d never get to see the colors of life in anything other than sad, depressed, washed-out hues. Things change. There’d been so much bad change to face in his life. He’d forgotten what good change was like.

It was like the sun. Bright and warm. Life giving.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten to hear you laugh for that long before.” Biff said, turning the playful atmosphere in a more serious direction. “That’s not to make you self-conscious by the way, don’t you dare start thinking that shit. Sorry, I tend to blurt things out before thinking, but like, honestly. The others aren’t fully sure how to be affectionate with you on the same level I do, because it’s kind of weird in a way, acting brotherly when that’s literally just yourself, but I know they think the same thing. It’s kind of… I don’t know, crisis inducing? To look at another version of you and know you’re so… sad. Eh, maybe not crisis inducing. Fuck I don’t know words. It makes us sad. That’s probably the most straight-forward way I can say it.”

YS’s laughs faded, shadowed eyes watching the other carefully. There was a very easy and negative takeaway he could get out of those words alone but he knew that wasn’t what Biff was trying to get at. Making assumptions before having the whole picture only led to more problems. 

“You’re smart. Surely you caught on to that by now. You’re seeking us out with the intent to help because it’s the next best thing when you’re so clammed up on your own self that you can’t give everything you give to us, to yourself instead. You’re not going to get away with that without us giving back. So of course seeing you so sad makes us sad. But it’s okay! We’re going to help fix that.” He said matter-of-factly. How confident.

YS huffed out one last chuckle. “All of you are so confident about solving problems you’ve never actually faced. Somewhere along the line I suppose it’s endearing but you’re all incredibly dumb and misguided.”

“I’ve faced them.” Biff reminded. “Not physically. But I have… faced them. Seen everything you lock in your head because you think you have to contain it alone. And I know you’re still mad at me for doing that. You just never fucking talk, man. All of us dumbasses come to you all vulnerable and you fix that but you don’t let yourself get vulnerable. What are you afraid of?”

Don’t you know? Though he never really did say it out loud. There were a lot of things he didn’t say out loud. He was scared of hurting them. They knew that. He was scared to lose them too. Something about the double meaning of losing himself made him uncomfortable.

“...Are we okay?” Biff continued suddenly, voice softer and more nervous. “It’s been weeks since I, I guess, betrayed you in a way. Took your magic and used it against you. I knew it wasn’t what you wanted and did it anyway.”

A flash of him, pounding against the glass of a mirror he couldn’t walk in, because Biff had purposefully avoided anything reflective. His face, always so pale and sad, shadowed out and hung low, but rolling tears still visible, kept company by a panicked and upset grimace, teeth clenched so tight they could shatter.

Had it all been a mistake?

“You disappeared on me for a while after. Scared me. I knew I deserved it, you were so angry when you came to take your baggage back. You stopped showing up in my dreams even. I deserved it but it still scared me. I wondered if we’d ever talk again after a few days.”

Biff was right about one thing. He had been angry. Furious, really, though it wasn’t all directed at him. They hadn’t really talked about it either. The days he had been avoiding Biff were the days he decided to reach out to even more selves- he didn’t need to know that though. That would probably just make him feel some sort of venom towards the others. YS didn’t want that. All of them getting along was important too.

“But… are we okay?” Biff repeated, lips stuck in a frown. “I guess I can’t really ask for forgiveness if you really don’t want to do that. But I need to… know where we stand so I don’t overstep. Hell, I’ve probably been overstepping this whole time…”

This dude worried too much.

“You are annoying.” YS started, almost laughing at the look of shock that caused. “You are. But I’m not saying that as a bad thing. You’re annoying that you care so damn much about my opinion of you. We’ve had this conversation before about your GF and Pico. You lost all your confidence in the face of them not thinking highly of you, in a dream. You know what that’s telling me? That you somehow care about my opinion as much as theirs. Don’t you think that’s a bit overdramatic?”

“Not if it’s the opinion of my big brother…” Biff mumbled. He hadn’t meant it to be loud enough for the other to hear, a reply to himself born from a need to say something in rebuttal. The other had definitely heard though.

YS didn’t think the grin on his face could get any wider without his head splitting. “We’re okay, you fucking idiot.” Big brother huh? Guess that whole changing my nickname in the groupchat thing wasn’t just a joke. I’m not entirely sure if that should make me this damn happy. I think I’d be even happier if the rest started calling me that too… “If everything ended after one shit choice then none of us would be here. None of us, because all of us are prone to shit choices with the small amount of brain cells we have collectively. So yes, we're okay. Just don’t fucking do that again.”

“You got it, bossman.” Biff teased, steering the atmosphere back to silly. “Good to know I’ll still be getting my hug before I leave.”

“So long as you don’t push any more of my buttons before then.”

“No promises!”

[banshee-king]

New models revealed! And although I am overall happy I also have some nitpicks to complain about.

I thought the Striking Scorpion Kill Team vs the Scouts was bad because of the mono-loadout of the Eldar vs all the customisation options of the Scouts, but GW did it again! It actually looks like Mandrakes might have LESS options than Scorpions if the squad leader can’t be upgraded. There’s no lore reason this time why 1 in 5 Mandrakes can’t take a different weapon, so what happened?

Now, maybe the models two-handing the blade/Baleblast respectively actually have different weapons, maybe the sickle blade will get different rules to the other blades. But they only mentioned the Glimmersteel Blades in the article, so if there were any other options I think they’d have mentioned them. Was it too hard to add a Bewitched blade? Soul-siphon dagger? Hex-tipped spear? No room on the sprue for one option?

New Kroot look cool though. I really like the Krootox Rampagers. The original Krootox (whilst it’s new model looks nice) is a bit confused since melee/ranged hybrid units can struggle to be good. You’re paying extra points for a unit that can’t shoot in melee, can’t melee from afar, never using 100% of its strengths. A dedicated melee unit in the Rampagers is great for the T’au.

The two new Shapers also look cool, and I like them in concept, but I would have preferred if one was a Psyker. It’s just that I hate redundancy, Xenos aren’t Space Marines so they can’t afford it. The T’au get blasted for being a stationary ranged army, with too many battlesuits and not enough alien auxiliaries. So ranged Kroot or melee battlesuits doesn’t interest me as much as say melee/psychic aliens.

Which is why I’m mixed on the new Kroot Carnivores. In a vacuum I love them, but weren’t the Farstalkers meant to replace them? The kit adds a whole 1 new gun to the range. Instead of that couldn’t we have gotten an entire new alien species? I love Kroot but I don’t want Codex T’au Empire to just be T’au plus Kroot. Personally, I’m happy with Kroot having 3-4 units, then a bunch of other species getting a unit each. You could have a tunnelling species, a stealthy chameleon species, a wall-climbing species, a small teamworking species whose basic units are like Skaven Jezzail teams. Anything that isn’t made immediately redundant by Fire Warriors.

I’m still overall happy with plastic Kroot/Mandrakes, don’t get me wrong, but I’m just a little disappointed with the execution.

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 6 - "you lied to me"

I may have shed a tear while writing this one.

This is a fantasy AU!! No teacher/student!!

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 971

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

As much as he tried to run away, Izuku had pulled him in like a magnet. They had fallen hard and fast for each other, faster than Shouta had in any of his lifetimes. 

The time came to confess his truth, to finally break off their relationship and part ways. It would be easier this way, Shouta could let Izuku live on in his memory, young and vibrant as he was. 

But Izuku always did love ruining Shouta’s plans. 

“Shouta, it’s okay. I- I am too.”

He didn’t think he’d ever felt such a feeling before. Was it relief? Distress, maybe… Hope. 

“Why… why didn’t you say anything?” He examined Izuku’s face, trying to wring out any deceit. 

His lover shrugged, smiling. The barely-there crow's feet made an appearance as he nuzzled into Shouta’s hand. 

“Probably for the same reason as you. I wanted to protect this. It wouldn’t work if one of us was mortal and the other…”

Shouta frowned, “I know most of the other immortals in the area, I can’t believe I never noticed you.” he swiped Izuku’s freckled cheek with his thumb. 

“I’ve…” Izuku sighed, “I’ve had a tough life, Shouta. I’m just grateful that I now get to spend the rest of it with you.”

Eternity… he doesn’t say. 

Truly, Shouta should’ve known it was too good to be true. 

He let himself believe that it was possible, that the universe had finally granted him some sort of reprieve. 

Maybe it was his desperation that led him to ignore the signs. Izuku’s aging, his spirit, his beauty. 

Living for as long as Shouta had, you would lose your mind a little more with each passing decade. Cursed immortals like him don’t receive the blessing of death, but rather gradual insanity. 

It was all good, all wrong. 

Not two years later, it all came crashing down. 

Izuku had begun looking tired and lethargic. His smile was strained and his movements painful. Shouta had insisted he go to the healer, ignoring the blaring alarm in his head that screamed this was wrong. He should be regenerating faster than his ailment could harm him. 

“Shouta, don’t worry.” He brushed off every time he showed concern. “I’m fine, they can’t help.”

There was something he wasn’t telling him. 

Weeks later, Izuku had awoken sometime in the night, and he hadn’t returned. After Shouta lay there unable to rest for some time, he threw the covers off of his bed and trudged into the dark of the house. 

He found Izuku curled around the toilet, sitting in a pool of sweat and vomit. 

Immediately he leaped into action, gathering the shivering man into his arms and lifting him. Izuku clung to his shoulders, whimpering at the movement. 

He rushed them to the nearest healer, doing his best to keep Izuku conscious throughout the trip. 

The old woman on duty took one look at Izuku and sighed, waving at Shouta to come through to the back. 

They put him on an open cot, and Shouta immediately forewent the waiting bench, kneeling beside Izuku on the dirt. 

“Shit, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on, Izuku. Please, I know you’re hiding something. Is your curse doing this to you? I don’t understand…”

“Love,” Izuku smiled, motioning for Shouta’s hand. He complied, holding the smaller hand in his own. Izuku’s body had always been small, almost dangerously so, but Shouta chalked it up to genetics. He never met Izuku’s family, assuming they’d passed decades or even centuries ago, like his own. 

But now, with the moonlight pouring in through the window, illuminating Izuku’s translucent skin, he’s sure he had it all wrong. 

He waited a moment, allowing Izuku to collect himself and breathe. 

“There’s a letter… in my chest at home. I explain more…” He sighed, eyebrows quivering, “I can’t imagine I have much longer. I’ve already been lucky.”

“Izuku you’re…” acting as though you’re already dead. “You lied to me about being immortal,” Shouta finished, using all his power to stay strong until he got answers. But watching the tears swell in Izuku’s eyes nearly broke him. 

“I’m sorry for deceiving you, Shouta. It was never with malicious intent, please believe me.” He took a shuddering breath, “I never had long for this life.”

Shouta brought Izuku’s hand to his forehead, feeling the cool skin and pressing a kiss into his wrist. 

Shouta would never be angry at him, and he needed Izuku to know, but he wouldn’t dare interrupt him now. 

“I knew you were cursed when we met all those years ago. I knew I was dying then, too.” Izuku explains, nodding to the woman when she brought him another pillow to prop himself on. “As much as I knew it would hurt, I was selfish. I fell in love with you, and I knew you would leave if I was honest. I just…” He sobs, caressing Shouta’s face. 

Shouta shakes his head, allowing his burning eyes to well, “Izuku you don’t need to justify yourself. I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had together. If I’d have known… I would’ve spent every waking moment treasuring you.”

Izuku chuckled, “You couldn’t possibly make me feel more loved than I already have. My time with you was the happiest of my life. I’ve been alone for so many years, and though it was greedy, I didn’t want to feel that loneliness in death. I know you’ll always be with me, just like I’ll always be with you, Shouta.”

He pulled himself up onto Izuku’s cot and took the man into his arms. 

“I love you more than anything, Izuku.” He murmurs, pressing kisses into Izuku’s crown. 

“Not more than I love you,” Izuku whispers back. 

He took his last breath with a sleepy smile on his face. 

Forever young, just like Shouta.

[starry-mist]

Okay so, as I can’t recall if I’ve delved into the mind of Season 6 Charlie here or if I’ve just posted it elsewhere, this might be repetitive or it might be brand new. (Yeah, my memory suckssss.)

Anyhoo. So in looking at what little we’ve seen of s6, and given they’ve basically all been filler episodes so far, definitely take all of this with a grain of salt. It requires a bit more continuity than we’re used to with this show, and I know we like to expect things from the writers that they rarely deliver on, but bear with me.

I think in s6, with its apparent shift in focus away from Team As Family and back to All Charlie All The Time (thanks I hate it) we’re potentially going to learn a bit more about other aspects of his character than we have previously. For instance: what’s the deal with his dad? Why have we suddenly gone from his referencing what sounded like a happy family (though to be fair, they’ve really not been mentioned that much) to this apparent friction with his dad over some kind of tension between his dad and his brother? I feel like they could potentially be setting up more of his family appearing this season, but also, as a friend helpfully pointed out, they seem to be wrapping up each episode as a stand-alone, so I could be way off base.

With regards to Charah, and Charlie’s hesitation with meeting more of Sarah’s extended family: Let’s assume that Charlie hasn’t had a ton of meaningful romantic relationships. He married young, so in theory Julia was likely his last “meet the family” experience. We know (though the writers may have forgotten) that he’s met Sarah’s parents before they were in a relationship, but meeting the extended family likely feels like a much bigger step. So the hesitancy makes some sense.

And this leads us to where Charah are at this point in time. They’re past the honeymoon phase, but they also seem to have pulled back a little relationship-wise (or they haven’t and the showrunners just decided to appease the haters, but that’s a whole other theory.) She’s taking classes, so she’s a little more busy, and he’s…randomly working on his motorcycle? Whatever, let’s just assume that was a throwaway to set up the bike stunt, IDK, I was too busy disliking the episode to pay much attention. But at any rate: while they’re clearly making time to spend with each other (lunches, dinners that we never see,) they seem to have hit pause on the depth they had in s5 (again, I’m basing this on all of two episodes, so there is a decent chance I’m wrong and this is just the general shitty continuity again.) Sarah’s got her school thing going on, she’s perpetually career-driven, so there’s that keeping her occupied and maybe making less space for her personal life.

Charlie, on the other hand…I think (and it was touched on briefly in 604, and dammit, I wish they’d give us more than throwaway lines as to his mental state) he’s worried about measuring up when it comes to Sarah. Which is a bit strange, because he’s a success in his own right, but is he potentially comparing himself to her in terms of her higher education and feeling like he’s not on her level? I mean, that’s one option (and it’s kind of a silly idea, because we all know he’s brilliant as well.)

But also: he’s at a point he’s maybe been at once before in his life, which is him considering what the future holds for this relationship. And I think he’s likely scared. He’s been burned, and his character arc for the past five seasons has been getting over the divorce and opening himself up to love again. So now he’s at that point where maybe he’s considering taking the next step with Sarah, but he’s terrified (and it’s not rational, but emotional reasoning rarely is) because he’s been burned by love and perhaps in the back of his mind he’s worried that it could happen again. Even though it shouldn’t be a worry, and they’ll eventually have their happily ever after because that’s clearly where they’re headed, I could see him having a bit of self-doubt when it comes to really committing long term. It’s something he would really wrestle with, because he knows he’s found his One, but emotional baggage can rear its ugly head at any given time.

I think this season’s arc (assuming one exists) is going to be Charlie letting go of any of that possible self-doubt, realizing he’s ready to take that next step, and really just solidifying that he’s built this life of his own after his divorce. I also think there are allusions being made to him settling down and “finding home” in the sense of perhaps officially moving in with Sarah (real estate seems to be the only theme I’ve managed to pick out so far in s6) and maybe (big maybe) we end the season with a proposal.

I do still think there is an obvious parallel between Sarah going back to school and Julia having done the same once upon a time, which was the beginning of the end for their marriage. And I do think, based on that, there is a potential for some rocky bits to come. But, I repeat, they suck at continuity so it might never be mentioned again and the school thing is just to slot Sarah into that psychologist role and we’re not meant to think more deeply about it. (We will though. Dammit, writers, throw us a bone here.)

Anyway, for the rest of the season, I look forward to the usual format which should give us a solid Sarah episode, a Joe episode or two, a couple of Jesse episodes, and my favourite “Charlie and Sarah isolated somewhere” trope, wherein some of what has turned into basically my rambling essay on the mind of Charlie Hudson (help) might actually play out. And I hope that what we’ve seen so far has just been a rocky start, and there are some really decent episodes to come.

Okay well…that was a novel. I’m so sorry. 🤣

[rriavian]

5 and 9 for Corintheus! <3

Thank you!! Ok I am incapable of answering anything succinctly but please enjoy my ramble :)

5. What was the moment for you that made you ship them? (If you do)

This is a very good question! I’d watched most of season 1 not really being sold on any pairing in particular, but seeing potential in a lot of interactions. Corintheus was a ‘hmm, could be interesting’ right up until we get to the confrontation at the convention. Before then Dream isn’t really that bothered by the Corinthian at all (which is hilarious given how obsessed the Corinthian is with escaping him) but in that conversation we see a depth of emotion in them both, a discussion of motive, that belies their canon behaviour. Not necessarily a moment where the masks come off, but one that is very very intimate, filled with this yearning on both sides that is incredibly compelling.

It was subversive—I’d almost expected Dream to be dismissive, to deal with him quickly so he could move on to the bigger threat (Rose as the vortex), but he wasn’t. He paused, explained, showed disappointment and pain but also love. And the Corinthian acted far less dismissive of Dream than he’d been all season—dismissive in the sense of just wanting to be rid of him, of not caring what he thought—revealing his own yearning, his own pain, and the same love.

As a scene it’s fascinating, and instantly made me want to write something.

Because it’s the first, and really the only, time in the entire show we really see Dream being this honest. The same with the Corinthian. Maybe it’s because they knew it would end with the Corinthian’s destruction, so there were no real stakes, but Dream isn’t as raw with any other character. The audience learns a lot about both characters in this scene, but it’s not just being shown to us, both are (finally) showing it to each other. As much as they are meeting as foes, the scene doesn’t limit them to that, has this intimacy Dream doesn’t really have with anyone else.

This is getting a bit long but…yeah. The convention sealed it for me because it revealed just how complex and layered their dynamic is, and it was irresistible. I couldn’t not want to explore it as much as I could :)

9. Which of the characters in the pairing is your favourite?

This is probably obvious but…Dream. Not that I don’t like the Corinthian! As a character he’s very interesting, and the more I write him the more I love his character, but I can’t help but be like sweetie your arguments would be stronger if you didn’t kill people. Like I get you sticking it to your creator but…as your first act of freedom was to murder a guy in the street I think Dream has a very good point about not letting you do that.

The Corinthian was fascinating to me when I watched the show because both me and the person I watched it with were like ‘he is objectively attractive but his actions are so vile I can’t find him hot’. I know this puts me in the minority but every time he was on screen I was just…unsettled, concerned for whoever he shared a scene with because this is an obvious predator please be careful. I’m asexual so that might have something to do with it, but I think it was a really nuanced part of Boyd’s performance where he could be such a compelling lure to those on screen (with me completely believing why they’d be taken in) while as the audience I’m like ‘my danger senses are screaming at me’.

I’ve accidentally rambled in the wrong direction. Oops! But Dream is my favourite for many reasons.

I think it’s best demonstrated by that moment in hell where Dream has the odds stacked against him, the simple equation of probability giving him no real chance, and though you know he can’t lose you don’t know how he can win. Yet he looks up and says ‘hope’. Yet he wins anyway. It’s a character defining moment for me—more than anything else, more than his powers, more than his tools, this is what Dream is. He is still wholly and completely himself even when he’s at his lowest. The battle wasn't just being able to think of a concept it's being able to become it.

And despite all that has happened to him Dream still can.

[myloveforhergoeson]

wait actually thinking more about that follower gap post, what is the tasw universe btr fandom's feelings towards roxy? i guess we see a bit of it in the tour letters chapter, and hopefully more in big time contest? are they public at this point? is she, as a girl their age on the team, being shipped with any other member?

hi!! the answer to this is simultaneously simple and complicated. as usual i have a long answer for you!

in short: no, btr fandom doesn’t know more than she’s their touring guitarist and if they did some research they’d find her listed as the writer on many of their songs. james and roxy aren’t public and there’s a few reasons why! as far as the fandom is aware, she just works with the band. after carlos told her he loved her at that one show tho some people might think they’re cute together but more on that later

in long: ah! i’ve already tried to incorporate this in so many ways and i have not found a way i like quite yet. i’ve set many little things up - you are so right about the letters chapter! rox makes a comment about getting some boos when carlos kisses her because we all know what fandom typically does to women who date guys in boybands 😭 in roxy’s birthday chapter, she and james get stopped in santa monica and people start taking pictures of him and he throws his coat over her head and pulls her away from the pier because of some “media training” he said he got from gustavo. jo mentions the same thing happening to her while she was out with kendall before the pair were forcibly made public by her publicist (which is also briefly mentioned; skipped that ep bc i didn’t like the sneaker storyline sorry!) so there’s little crumbs im attempting to put in here and there i just can’t decide what to do with them. i thought about adding another section onto the minnesota chapter where roxy convinces her old boss to let her have her show again for a night where she can “interview” (read: fuck around with her boyfriend in the radio studio for four hours) james and he’d forget to turn his mic off before calling her babe or something and accidentally make their relationship public but 1) the chapter was already way too long and 2) like what do i do then. write an even longer chapter the next time around to fix what i wrote previously? i do not have the same time i used to when i started writing this to just get down like 20 pages a night LMAO. i loveeeee writing don’t get me wrong but it’s just hard for me currently and low interaction on original portions of the story are not very motivating. (but i’m not writing for the engagement don’t worry! it’s just a bonus!!!)

so yeah like it’s THERE it’s just not there.

besides. i want james and roxy to have a conversation about it too but i think he’s probably tweaking out about it bc of gustavo’s “training” and she would love to be public i just don’t think she understands what being in the spotlight really means and she doesn’t want to come off as too pushy because he hasn’t brought it up. neither of them really know what to expect from a public relationship with a public figure. but i mean. they’re out to their friends and stuff obviously! so maybe that might come back to bite them in the butt later idk. i have literally so many thoughts about this i promise itll be in there at some point i just don’t know when :)

i imagine at this point in time the band members each have like the lower end of a 60-100k follower count? i really have no basis for this though. i’ll have to give it some more thought!

tysm for your question eeee!! love seeing things tagged rames on my dash :) <3

[hirikka]

find me somebody to love (2/7)

Part 1

Posting part 2 for @steddie-week 5/27 prompt: Misunderstandings

After Robin assures Steve that Eddie isn’t avoiding him because he hates him, he just... has a crush, Steve decides the perfect way to spend time with Eddie again is to offer to be his wing-man.

"Hey, man, can I come in?" Steve asks, not waiting for an answer before he walks into the trailer.

"Sure, I guess," Eddie says in a bemused voice. "Come on in."

"Thanks," Steve says as he takes a seat on the couch, waiting for Eddie to join him. He'd thought a lot about what to say on his way over, but he's still not sure of the best way to start this conversation.

"So, what's up?" Eddie asks as he takes a seat on the far end of the couch. Steve wishes he would sit closer, misses the easy camaraderie they shared during the whole Vecna thing but maybe that was just a heat of the moment thing. They’d still seemed fine for a few weeks after, though, like they were close to becoming real friends before Eddie had started to pull away.

"I just—we haven't been hanging out much lately," Steve says. "And I thought maybe I had done something to upset you?" It's embarrassing to admit that he was so worried about this, but he's hoping if he is a little vulnerable, it will make Eddie more willing to open up as well. It looks like Eddie is about to say something, so Steve rushes to continue, not wanting to risk getting distracted. "So I talked to Robin, and she, uh, said you weren't avoiding me because I did something wrong or anything like that? She just said you'd been, like, busy or whatever, because, um. Because you have a crush?"

Eddie freezes, eyes wide and face pale for a moment. "Look, man—"

"And I wanted to say," Steve interrupts because he has to get this out now or he's not going to be able to make the offer; he'll be too selfish to offer to help, "that I know we haven't been hanging out long, but like, if you want to talk about it, I'm here? And I make a pretty good wing-man, too."

"Wing-man," Eddie repeats slowly.

"Yeah, I mean, it's been a while," Steve admits. "But I can totally help. If you want?"

Eddie stares at him, expression unreadable, and Steve wonders if he's overstepped. If it is too weird to offer this kind of help when they don't know each other that well, or if he came off as too eager. "So, just to get this straight. Robin told you I had a crush on—"

"She didn't tell me who," Steve hurries to assure him, not wanting to get Robin in trouble if Eddie isn't comfortable with people knowing for some reason. "Just that you had a crush."

"Right. Okay, so Robin told you I had a crush, and you want to help me, what? Ask them out?"

"Yeah," Steve forces himself to sound normal and not as if the idea of Eddie asking someone out makes him want to scream. "Or like, be your moral support or talk you up, whatever you need. If you want help, that is." Steve hesitates for a moment before deciding to offer up at least part of the truth because whatever the outcome of this particular conversation is, he doesn't want Eddie to keep being distant. "I just, like, miss hanging out with you. So I figured, if you're busy because of this crush, well. I can help you get a date, and we can hang out more in the process. Two birds, yeah?" Steve is aware it is a little pathetic, to admit how much he's missed Eddie, but after thinking for weeks that Eddie hated him, he past the point of trying to maintain any kind of cool about this situation.

Eddie nods, a little tentatively. "Okay, yeah. I guess."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, yeah. I guess. If you want." Eddie doesn't sound entirely convinced but that's just because he hasn't seen Steve in action. Steve is absolutely going to help Eddie get his crush, and if Steve gets his heart broken in the process, well, that's just par for the course at this point.

"So, what's your game plan?" Steve asks. "How can I help?"

Eddie shrugs. "I... can't tell you."

Steve stares at him. "Why not?"

"I need to maintain my air of mystery, man," Eddie says.

"How am I supposed to help if I don't even know who you are interested in?"

"I thought you were the greatest wing-man, huh? I'm sure you can figure it out," Eddie has a challenging expression and a teasing gleam in his eyes, and honestly, Steve doesn't actually want to know who Eddie is interested in. It is so much easier to hate the idea of a person; if he knows who it is exactly, he'll have to face all the ways he doesn't measure up.

"You're such a weirdo," Steve grumbles. He could try to help Eddie figure out some sort of plan for asking out his crush, but he really, really doesn't want to do that. "Wanna watch a movie or something?"

Eddie gives him another of those strange looks before he shrugs. "Sure, that sounds good."

[uncannyinthegrove]

Uncanny in the Grove Chapter Three: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Table of Contents

Previous

Chapter One

(Content Warnings for Violence and Disturbing Imagery)

“So,” Yarrow began after a long stretch of silence that had only been punctuated by the ambient audio of their trek through the undergrowth. “You come here often?”

The desk clerk stumbled, one foot catching in the other in a manner that sent him awkwardly hopping forward as he tried to reestablish his balance. He caught a branch to the face for his clumsiness and his groan of frustration was laced with both pain and what Yarrow assumed had to be embarrassment.

It was honestly a wonder that this sad, scruffy young fellow had at one point been a threat. Yarrow couldn’t help but liken him to a deflated, chastised puppy or something equally unthreatening.

They patted him on the back pityingly and ignored the way he flinched back from them like they’d wronged him somehow. It was deeply unfair given he’d just been trying to keep from getting buried alive. He’d started it.

Or the ghost possessing him had. Either way, Yarrow felt entitled to a little self-defence, though they did feel bad about his hand—still cradled against his chest protectively. That might have been a bit much. Still, it’d probably keep him from swinging any hammers at unsuspecting skulls or dragging any bodies around. So maybe it’d not been that unwarranted after all.

“Watch your step,” Yarrow cautioned, choosing not to pick a fight about how twitchy the desk clerk was. “Can’t have you getting too beat up!” They smiled winsomely, if not a little sarcastically.

The desk clerk tugged a branch out of his hair in frustration and sighed. “Sorry.”

Yarrow shrugged and patted them on the shoulder again. “What are you apologizing for? Accidents happen!”

The desk clerk’s face twisted, and he blinked uncertainly at the ground, refusing to make eye contact. “Right,” he agreed and looked a breath away from apologizing again, but chose to continue onwards instead.

Yarrow chased after him for a bit before they cleared their throat. “So. Do you?”

“What?” This time he didn’t trip, but the desk clerk did turn to peer through the gloom at Yarrow with a constipated expression that made Yarrow wonder if their question was a very difficult thing to answer, or deeply offensive for some reason.

“Do you come here often?” Yarrow took care to speak slowly and emphasize their words pointedly, their eyebrows rising in pointed expectation.

The desk clerk squinted. “I… work here?”

“Well, sure. But is it a recent gig? You local? Or did you move nearby recently? My family comes through these parts pretty often to visit Gramma, and I don’t recognize you.”

The desk clerk stared for a moment longer, before exhaling slowly through his teeth and turning back to face forwards. “Well, I am. Local, that is. Haven’t worked at Pinefort before though, so I guess that’s new.”

“Huh.” Yarrow peered at the desk clerk’s back suspiciously. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why’re you working at Pinefort?”

Now the desk clerk’s voice was certainly laden with confusion. “Why? What do you mean, why? I needed a job.”

“Hm.”

They both continued forward a few steps, stumbling over roots bulging forth from the ground, and ducking by the low-hanging branches in suspended tension before the desk clerk drew to a stop once more. He sucked in a breath in a clear attempt to wind himself up, and Yarrow ambled to a halt behind him, idly snapping off a twig from a briar when it caught on their sweater and flicked it into the distance while they waited.

“Alright, what are you getting at? You’re acting… well, I dunno. Weird. Why else would I be working here? Do you think I’m… hiding something? Is this because you still think I’m part of a cult?” The desk clerk finally blurted, turning to face Yarrow as he did. He still didn't manage to make eye contact. He directed his face anywhere but towards Yarrow’s own.

“Are you?” They rebutted.

“No!”

“Well, good then. But I was just trying to get to know you a bit. I need clues if I’m to solve this mystery! For all we know these are the embittered ghosts of your ancestors calling to you across the veil of time to act as their sword of vengeance.”

The desk clerk stared in frozen bewilderment for a moment and then turned back around and hurriedly continued walking. “I…that seems a little far-fetched. It's not like this is some Hollywood thriller”

Yarrow clicked their tongue and shoved their hands deeper into the pockets of their sweater. “Far-fetched? You’re saying that at this stage in the game?” Even though the desk clerk couldn’t see it, Yarrow shook their head pityingly. “You need to get your story straight. Oh, wait! I should have asked your name first!”

The beam of the flashlight the desk clerk was holding lowered slightly, sagging towards the forest floor in a way that expressed the emotions obscured by his turned back.

Yarrow pressed onwards all the same until they were aligned with the desk clerk, leaning around to peer into his face. “C’mon. What if you die? It’ll suck so bad if I have to tell the police that 'the desk clerk from the motel' died without even being able to give your name! And maybe using your name will help if you go all crazed killer on me again? That kinda thing does seem to happen in the movies and books quite often. You know, like it is an anchor, or whatever. My father always said that there’s power in names and it sounds weird, sure, but there is no guarantee it wouldn’t help. Probably nicer than another fistfight, for sure!”

The desk clerk cringed back from Yarrow partway through the explanation, shifting so that there was more space between the two of them and the moment he got a chance to cut Yarrow off, he did. “Okay, I get it! Yes, alright. I’m Colton. Buckley.” He shrugged, the motion dull, bordering on listless. “Happy?”

“Nice to meet you! Officially, anyhow. Nothing like a little attempted murder to get to know a person, am I right?” Yarrow joked. “I’m Yarrow. They/them if you would.”

Colton grunted. "Oh., yeah. um. He/him for me?" He said hesitantly. "Wait, nevermind that. I know who you are. I checked you in. And I,” he paused to clear his throat, “went through your phone.”

“What? When? Wait, no, when I was out of it, right? Why’d you do that? Where is it? Give it back!”

“I mean, mostly I was focussed on getting rid of you, but I just kinda… you know, figured it might be good to know who you were. And make sure…” Colton trailed off and shrugged. “You know. It all happened so fast and I was so out of it but, well, it seemed like something I should do. I, um, I got rid of it though.”

“Dude, how’d you even get into it?”

The desk clerk shrugged. “They’ve all got fingerprint scanners or face recognition. It’s not like you were in a position to stop me.”

At this, Yarrow squinted. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“No! I mean yes. I’m sure. But it's not like I’ve never watched a mystery or crime show, so that much is basic knowledge, right?”

“Huh. Maybe you’re just cut out for this kind of thing after all,” Yarrow mused and gestured for Colton to continue leading the way back.

Yarrow’s assailant did not have anything to say to their accusation, so silence settled over them again.

A cold gust snaked through the trees, and Yarrow shivered. They wiped at the layer of water that had been building on their face, swiping a hand across their eyes to clear their vision as they peered up through the forest canopy at the pre-dawn sky. Daylight was a long way off yet, though at least the rain had begun to subside to a meagre drizzle. Still, it was far too late to spare them from being soaked to the bone, never mind the mud that was smeared all over them from their fight with this odd Colton fellow.

At least it was serving to keep the blood from drying where it streaked down over the side of their face, and down their neck and chest. There’d likely be no saving of their sweater or shirt, but at least they wouldn’t have to spend an hour trying to get the gore to wash off. Then again, the thought of a warm shower after such a dreadful and involuntary venture into the woods was a welcome one. If they had been chilled when they arrived at the old motel earlier that evening, they were now completely frozen.

Of course, that begged the question of what they should do about the desk clerk in the interim. For all they knew he’d go all blood-crazed homicidal maniac and try to cave their skull in again without supervision, regardless of his injuries. He certainly hadn’t shown much of a reaction to pain when he’d been possessed before.

At the very least, Yarrow would much prefer not to be caught unawares again. If he was injured, regardless of evil spirits taking control of him, Yarrow could get clear if they weren’t taken by surprise.

Probably the best thing to do was let Colton do something about his hand and then tie him to a chair or something. Prevention, their mother had always said, was the best medicine.

Granted, he probably wouldn’t take all that kindly to Yarrow’s suggestion, which meant they were going to have to remind him again that they were a victim of unwarranted violence which would have typically been resoundingly traumatic, if not fatal. For the sake of their sense of security, the least he could do was comply.

Still, it would probably best to spring that on him when they weren’t in the middle of the forest.

Yarrow glanced up from where they’d been watching the uneven terrain, as if Colton’s dark silhouette in the woods could offer some insight as to how badly he was going to react to getting restrained, when something skittered out from the undergrowth into the path of his flashlight, startling the both of them enough that they jerked to a halt.

Staring back at them, seemingly as startled as they were, was a small rodent, spotlit by the glare of the flashlight, staring at them in frozen disbelief.

It twitched and shuddered slightly, but didn’t run off, even as the beat of surprise passed.

Colton cleared his throat and chuckled nervously. “Just a squirrel. They can be so brazen.” He stepped forward.

The squirrel twitched, its bedraggled tail spasming like a rattlesnake’s, but it didn’t run away.

Colton drew to a halt again.

Yarrow maneuvered up behind Colton, smirking slyly at his remarkable skittishness. “Is this your great evil in the woods? A gutsy squirrel? Pretty cute. But my fingers are about to freeze off, so if you wanna get going—“

The squirrel jerked upright, standing at attention when their voice crested out into the wilderness, allowing them to see for the first time that it was a mangled little thing. It had torn ears, its fur was matted, and one of its limbs was little more than matchstick thin bones dragging through the dirt.

Yarrow squinted in bewilderment. “Is that normal for wildlife in these parts?” Even as they said it, the squirrel’s skin heaved with a mass of small bugs living under its rotting skin.

“Uh, n-no,” Colton replied, voice rasping quietly against the unease in his throat.

Yarrow nodded. “Figures. Oh well. What’s it going to do? Bite us? One good kick should do.”

“After you then,” Colton muttered back.

Yarrow sighed, and took a step forward, toward the squirrel, which continued to strain to stand upright. Something that might have been a chittering sound at one point escaped its hollowed-out face. “Sorry, little guy, but despite whatever’s going on, you should have just stayed dead.” Honestly, it was a little pathetic how easy it was to send it flying back into the brambles of the woods with a quick flick of their foot.

“Gross,” they whined, peering down at the toe of their shoe to see if any bits were still stuck to it, feeling at once sad and very weirded out.

Colton was staring off into the woods where the body of the squirrel had gone, his face a picture of discomfort. “What the hell was that?”

It seemed rather obvious to Yarrow what it had been, but they figured Colton hadn’t been exposed to the same influences as they had during their childhood. Colton, it would appear, had learned things like checking the phone of one’s victim and disposing of it, or how to fake a power outage to lure innocent and well-meaning individuals out in the woods for a little attempted murder. Yarrow, however, knew the undead when they saw them. “Zombie Squirrel,” they offered with a shrug. “Not the most effectual type of corpse to use, but everything has to start somewhere, right?”

“I’m sorry, did you just say a zombie squirrel?”

“Sure. Can’t think of anything else it could have been. I mean, I guess a ghost could have possessed it. Maybe that’s where your ghost went when it stopped possessing you—nearest available corpse-type deal.”

“What? That’s so gross. This is awful. What the hell is even going on here?”

“I know. Pretty stupid, possessing a squirrel, of all things. And a dead one too! Had to be better pickings out here in these woods. But I’ll actually take that over the first option. Zombie plagues are the worst.”

Finally, Colton met Yarrow’s eyes, staring with a slack-jawed sort of awe that Yarrow had a sudden intuition would turn to full-on distress in seconds. They were right.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. You’re crazy. I’m crazy! I tried to kill you! And you keep going on about ghosts and zombies like it’s all real! This is insane! We need to call the cops. Or the ambulance. Jesus, I thought you were dead. Like for real, actual dead. I checked your pulse! You, your brains were leaking out. I killed you. And now you’re acting like this is some kind of supernatural ghost story and it's impossible and I-I-I c-can’t—”

Yarrow grimaced as Colton started to hyperventilate, rocking back on their heels as they tried to wait out the hysteria. They didn’t wait very long though, because Colton swayed on his feet, one hand—the one holding the flashlight—flailing out blindly to catch his balance as his uneven breathing short-circuited his brain. It sent a pale beam of light spinning into the dark mist, glancing off of wet bark and leaves like the worst strobe light of all time.

“Woah woah woah,” they exclaimed, stepping forward to catch the panicked young man before he collapsed. “Hey, this is good for you. If it’s ghosts, then we don’t have to ship you off to court for attempted murder. And I don’t have to call my family and explain why I also have to go to court and testify. And then they don’t have to get all freaked out and come here and deal with you. Although I guess we could just skip the police part and go straight to the 'take care of' part.”

“What?” Colton would have shrieked if he’d been able to breathe deep enough for that. As it was, his words were shallow pools of alarm crackling in the cold like thin ice. “Are you part of a gang or something?”

Yarrow wrinkled their nose. “No. Ew. What about this said crime ring to you?”

Colton couldn’t answer as he gaped like a fish suffocating on land.

Yarrow shifted awkwardly from one foot to the next, unsure of how to proceed. It was hardly as if they had a paper bag on hand, and trying to get him to breathe through their damp, filthy sweater would have probably been the equivalent of a war crime. Beyond that didn’t know what else to do to get their terribly skittish and fragile assailant to settle down. Managing emotional distress wasn’t their forte.

Belatedly, they realized there was another solution, and reached out to offer Colton a few reassuring pats on the back. This did not go over well, as he tripped over himself to get away from them, eyes wide as he collapsed back into a tangle of underbrush.

Behind Yarrow came a wet scraping, dragging sound and they stiffened. Colton, from his prone position on the forest floor, looked even more panicked. He pressed a forearm over his own face as he tried to muffle his erratic breathing, the whites of his eyes showing like he was a panicked dog being taken to the vet.

Yarrow slowly turned to look back at the source of the sound.

The deer could hardly be called that anymore. Its head lolled on its slender, broken neck, and its ribs were a hollowed-out cavity where scavengers had torn free its insides. its back legs barely functioned so that it had to pull itself forward in a horrific mimicry of seal-like movements.

Colton retched, and even Yarrow pressed a delicate hand over their mouth in disgust.

“Oh dear,” they quipped. “Or, deer, as it were. Your ghosts have terrible taste. If they’re trying to kill me, you’d think…” Yarrow shook their head. “Well, I can’t kick that one away, but I imagine we could outrun…”

Their words got cut off when a small bird, far too small to be out and about during the depths of the night, plummeted out of the branches above and smacked into the earth with a faint crunching sound. It did not still though, no. Instead, its wings weakly flapped against the earth as it tried to heave itself closer to Yarrow.

They were pretty sure they heard the desk clerk whimper.

“That,” they observed needlessly, “is probably not so good.”

Behind them there was a flurry of motion as Colton sprang to his feet, a string of curse words rupturing out of his mouth as he suddenly jerked towards Yarrow’s side and away from another bundle of bones and dried, mummified flesh that appeared from the undergrowth next to him.

“Huh. Maybe it is a zombie plague after all,” Yarrow pondered, quietly reaching out to start tugging Colton away from the slowly expanding hoard of animated corpses.

Another creature plummeted out of the air, bouncing off tree boughs as it dropped towards them, nearly landing at Yarrow’s feet had they not hopped back a step in time.

Whipping his flashlight between one shuddering, staggering creature and the next with enough fervour to induce a seizure, Colton asked, “What do we do?”

“Run probably. That motel is starting to look even nicer—“

The bugs descended on them, a thick cloud of tattered wings, hard shells, and tiny squirming bodies. It was a swarm of undead detritus that caught indiscriminately in their hair and clothes, crawling for their noses, mouths and ears.

They could hear the other creatures closing in, and there were more sickening thumps as things tumbled out of the air. Most of them missed, but not all of them. Feathers and talons crashed into Yarrow as they tried to bat at the air and shield their face.

It was nearly impossible to see, and the only real landmark they had was the weak flicker of the flashlight through the swarm—it was on the ground, dropped in the chaos. That, and the flailing body next to them, the sounds of his distress muffled as he tried to avoid inhaling the swarms of insects.

Blindly, Yarrow reached out a hand, snagging their fingers into Colton’s jacket, and then with an all mighty heave dragged him after them as they let their feet carry them through the trees. They had no target, and couldn’t have navigated their way through the forest without light and a trail at the best of times, never mind with a hoard of dead things trying to smother and pummel them to death.

A wet crunching sound came from where their foot fell, and the feeling of something giving made Yarrow flashback to when they’d stomped on Colton’s hand, but they knew in this instance that wasn’t what it was. They didn’t stop, continuing to pull Colton after them, heedless of the branches snapping against their face, their heart hammering in their chest. They surged away from the swarm, even as it clicked and buzzed after them, sounding like static in their ears.

A larger shape lumbered through the trees towards them, filling the air with a stench so putrid that even the cold mist couldn’t soften it, and Yarrow yelped in surprise at the speed it was moving with, clearly in better condition than the other creatures which had been thrown at them so far.

They swerved to the side, their feet skidding on the wet leaves as they went, nearly sending them crashing to the ground. It was only by luck that Colton managed to reach out and grab their elbow in a grip that was iron-tight and made something pop painfully.

The undergrowth ahead heaved around them, the dead leaves and needles, the soil and the dirt roiling with bones and decaying matter that wouldn’t still.

It was really no surprise that eventually their blind flight through the dark woods would be brought to an end one way or another. Even as Yarrow jerked them both away from the unnatural heaving mass, something in their head was telling them that this was all wrong, that they were being corralled. Shepherded.

And then, as they tripped and blundered passed a fallen tree, slipping over the rain-slicked moss that cascaded out from it, they came to a steep slope that surged down into the darkness. Their momentum tugged them forward, even as they dug their heels into the soft earth for purchase. But Colton, staggering along behind them, kept going. He was blind to the pitfall ahead, and he tipped them both over the edge with a strangled cry of realization that came far too late.

Abruptly they were falling, tumbling, their feet going too fast to stay under them until they were rocketing down over the drop, bouncing off rocks and roots and barrelling into branches and bushes. It was only by luck that Yarrow managed to twist their body in such a way that it sent them careening away from a tree that likely would have broken their fall by also breaking most of their bones.

And then they reached the bottom, tossed over the edge of a rocky ledge before dropping several feet down into cold, shallow water that did nothing to cushion their landing.

For a moment Yarrow lay there, the breath stolen from their lungs, their mind wailing in panic and shock. The pain took a moment to set in, but when it did Yarrow gurgled a choked moan of abject agony. It almost felt worse than having their skull smashed in, and that said something. They had definitely broken something. Multiple things, even.

Dazedly, they thought they needed to move. There were zombie animals after them, and Yarrow hadn’t a clue how much worse their night could get after being assailed by a hoard of undead creatures, but they figured it’d certainly be even worse.

They peeked an eye open, waiting.

Eventually, they realized the dead things weren’t coming for them. No swarms of insect shells, no ominous shapes surging out of the trees, no birds crashing out of the sky like tiny, disgusting meteors of rotting meat.

With a groan, they shut their eyes again and waited for their body to stop rebelling. The water they had landed in was doing a pretty good job of making it all go numb.

Distantly, Yarrow realized that they were forgetting something.

Desk clerk, they remembered in a sudden burst of clarity.

They didn’t know what happened to Colton. They’d lost him pretty much the moment they’d gone over the edge.

Briefly, they struggled to sit up, but they gave up on that pretty quickly and flopped back into the water with a small splash.

“H-hey,” they tried to call out, their voice wheezing quietly. “Hey!” They tried again, louder, though their chest ached just from inhaling. “You there?”

Nothing.

“Did'yah die?” Yarrow slurred, staring blankly up into the sky overhead and straining to hear any sort of answer, even if it was just a whimper of pain.

Still nothing.

Yarrow’s eyes slid shut in resignation. Either he was unconscious, which they couldn’t do anything about at the moment, or he was dead. Humans were terribly fragile, after all.

“Shit,” they swore, and waited for the pain to ease, for their body to right itself. It took a long time. They lay in the icy water, waiting for the white-hot pinpricks of pain dancing under their skin and along their bones to subside, attention snapping to every errant sound in the surrounding woods, wondering if it was the desk clerk, wondering if it was zombie animals come to trample them or smother them or whatever it was they would try to do. In their more delirious moments they thought it was their Gramma there to help, dragged out into the woods by the unnatural disturbance.

Eventually, after they’d either blacked out and had a weird dream, or a tree had informed them that hypothermia was setting in, they realized the sky was beginning to lighten. Just barely. Its deep black was easing into a dull denim colour with a gradualness that Yarrow hadn’t noticed until it suddenly wasn’t as deep and endlessly dark anymore.

That was also when a bloody and bruised Colton staggered into view, staring blankly down at them. He almost looked as bad as the zombie animals, his nose broken, and blood smeared all down over the bottom of his face, while ugly red-purple bruises ringed his eyes.

He’d lost his hat, Yarrow noticed blearily, before noting the rock he had picked up in the interim.

They groaned and struggled to push themselves up. However, there was no rapid fire lurching to their feet this time, no lighting quick turning of the tables. They flailed, not unlike the bird that had crashed to the forest floor, breaking itself against the ground and then struggling to move with shattered wings.

For a moment Colton swayed, and it seemed like he might have been too weak to do much either. Except there was that same wooden expression on his face that went beyond a case of shock or a concussion. He dropped to his knees, one crashing into Yarrow's ribs and sending a fresh wave of pain washing through them as he weighed them down.

Yarrow got the chance to see him robotically lift the rock over his head before they squeezed their eyes shut in automatic rejection of what came next.

They just hoped they’d be lucky enough to once again wake up before he managed to bury them again.

—

Yarrow had always had a tumultuous relationship with luck. This time, it showed them mercy. They came to right where they had been. This time they were feeling marginally better than the last time they’d had their brains beaten out, though the bright sunlight filtering down through the trees was blinding and stung their eyes.

When they managed to sit up, they found Colton in the mud not too far from them, bloody rock close at hand. He was so still and pale it seemed likely that he was dead. They’d almost thought that when he’d appeared after the fall, another zombie dragged into action by some unknown cause, but hadn’t had a chance to formulate the idea before he’d tried to kill them. Again.

“Told you,” Yarrow huffed, between the chattering of their teeth. “I’m pretty… pretty damn sturdy.” They dragged themself over to his still form and collapsed down next to him, sitting with their arms on their knees, their head bowed as they tried to figure out what to do next.

Fortunately, Colton had unwittingly given them a hint earlier that night.

They fished through his pockets for his phone.

“Salut?” Their mother answered on what was nearly the last ring, voice fogged by sleep.

Yarrow opened their mouth to answer, but the words caught on sudden emotion.

“Hello?” she asked again. And then, after a moment, “Yarrow?”

They blinked back sudden tears, and quickly fumbled the phone away from their ear, mashing a thumb against the button to hang up. For several minutes afterwards, they stared at it, half expecting it to start ringing. It did not.

The moment stretched. They sighed.

The desk clerk groaned, his eyes fluttering, and they lurched away from him like a crab, scuttling backwards on their hands until they were well out of his reach.

He didn’t move and after several more moments of tense waiting, they hesitantly scooted closer again. They tapped him with the toe of one soggy boot, but he didn’t react. So they did it again, harder. This time he exhaled sharply, and his eyes fluttered again.

“Great,” they snarked into the space between them. “Looks like I’m not the only sturdy one. Dammit.”

(Next)

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[buffyspeak]

i know at the time a lot of people were very Upset at the idea magnus might apologize whether in fic or headcanon or whatever after malec’s subsequent break-up/fight/subsequent getting back together. and like. i agree that magnus doesn’t need to apologize for breaking up with alec (and yes, i do consider it a break-up) or prioritizing the survival of his people because like. he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.

but the thing is. the reason (or at least the reason he gives) for breaking up with alec is not actually ‘you lied to me and now i can’t trust you’. he was obviously hurt by that and i understand fully, but it seems to me that if it were that, it was something he’d think they could get through in time. the reason he actually gives is that he’s a leader and has difficult decisions to make and doesn’t feel able to do that if he’s with alec because og how much he Loves alec. it’s not just that love is Not Enough; Love Is A Hindrance.

and again, that’s not actually the part i could maybe see him apologizing for. (though ironically, i do fully believe it’s what hurts alec the most. there’s an excellent meta i read a while back and need to dig up but. because of who he is, at this moment in time, i don’t think alec can fully understand how someone could love him, genuinely and truly, and still walk away. it’s math that doesn’t add up. he lives in extremes and he’s steadfast and if he loves someone, he assumes they can Figure It Out, whatever IT may be.) (and he unlearns this lesson a bit too hard by 3.18 unfortunately. because he has Evidence that magnus can walk away and be fine, functional. which surely means magnus can live without him in ANY context, right? right?)

i got very off-topic. anyway. he made it clear to alec that his breaking things off was less about the soul sword itself and more about the situation opening magnus’s eyes to how deeply engulfed in this war they’d become and how and he didn’t feel like he could make the decision he needed to right now with aec by his side.

and then after that, he acts cold and demeaning to alec anyway. purposefully and without provocation. i’m not saying it’s on the same level as lying about the soul sword, but the way magnus acted was! uncalled for! i get why he was doing it, to Distance himself, but that doesn’t mean it was like. great of him or even necessary. it’s easy to see how alec might be hurt by that, especially compounded with the fact that he didn’t warn alec or any of the other shadowhunters about the ward around the city that would kill them if they tried to pass through???? even though it was only valentine and jonathan they were trying to keep in??? (i know this is likely the writers dropping the ball a bit. idk. maybe he and luke agreed that luke would be the one to tell them. idk it’s just so Weird.)

anyway! none of this is like unforgivable or stuff i think magnus Needed to apologize for. especially if he didn’t then choose to get back together with alec. but he did…. which complicates it! bc relationships are complicated!! and not 1:1 on the Who Did More Wrong Scoreboard. because if you choose to be with someone after a break up, however brief, you do have more of a responsibility to take consideration of their feelings [Edit: than you would of you remain broken up.] that’s life!

it doesn’t even particularly bother me that magnus doesn’t apologize! like, i don’t think that’s something that alec needs expects or wants from him and for his part, as long as magnus forgives him and wants to be together, he’s okay-ish. (that is not to say the break-up doesn’t affect him! i really strongly believe it does and informs a lot of season 3 actions!) but there was a really big insistence at the time of this storyline airing that Any Fic Where Magnus Apologized Was Morally Wrong. and anyone who suggested alec might have somewhat of a right to be hurt, if he happened to be, was Also Very Wrong. it spoke to a bigger issue with the fandom and fandom in general and my relationship with it. a lot of this rewatch is honestly me working through that and reckoning with it

[iironwreath]

Verklempt [Vierna]

Arjun came running at the sound of shattered glass. Vierna half expected Azul to show up behind him since they’d been training but he was, gratefully, alone. She didn’t want her daughter to see her this way. She couldn’t let Nepenthe, either.

“Vierna?” he asked. His gaze fell to the entrails of her toppled test tubes, flasks, beakers, and their liquid. Some popped and sizzled on the stone, others changed colour—there was even a spilled line of Lolth’s blood shivering in the crystal light. She could spy it immediately not just because of its unique consistency, but its subtle call to her. 

The way Nepenthe described its effect didn’t match what Vierna felt, though—for her it was subdued, like it didn’t want to fully commit to her. It either wanted someone physically stronger, or the Chained Oblivion had diluted any chance of a full, unbroken connection she could have had with Lolth. 

She towered over it all, heaving, nails cutting into her palms, ready to pull her hair from her roots. She’d redirected that energy at the lab equipment instead. 

“What is it?” Arjun prodded when she didn’t answer to her name. 

“What’s not to get?” she asked hotly.   

He shrugged at the mess. “I’ve never seen you destroy your equipment before. I can’t think of what could make you lose your temper.” He pointed at the trickle of Lolth’s blood following the shape of the crevices between stones. “That might even be considered a crime.”

Vierna scoffed. He wasn’t wrong, but he also wouldn’t tattle. Some drow—driders, mostly—would have happily licked it off the ground. Would Nepenthe? The thought of her wife drove a fresh stake of anger through her chest. 

“It’s useless,” she spat. “Give me a thousand years, and I’ll still never be able to fully unravel the secrets of Lolth’s blood.”

His brows fell flat over his eyes. He stepped lightly on the broken glass to reach her; it crunched like gravel, grinding her nerves into powder. “Vierna? Explain.”

“I can’t make a cure,” she claimed, a note of desperation creeping in. “Not a proper, permanent one. Lolth is a goddess. She can never be understood, and so my solutions will always be imperfect. I sometimes wonder if the reason it even partially works is because Lolth allowed it. She gave her blessing for my tests, but she never specified if they would fully work. Wouldn’t she enjoy it? She enjoys pain on behalf of devotion to her. Nothing proves loyalty quite like it.”

“Don’t say that. You’ve come this far, I don’t see why you can’t. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

She sliced a hand through the air. “I don’t care if you believe that, it won’t make it true. Once her blood is consumed, it alters you forever. You become close to Lolth in a way that can’t be undone; she’s part of you, and you her. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve already lost Nepenthe.”

“But you haven’t,” Arjun argued. “You can’t give up on her like that. She’s important to me, too, Vierna. To Azul, to a lot of us.” One corner of his nose creased upwards. “And if she ends up closer with Lolth, how is that bad? That’s not lost.”

“The version we know of her would be,” Vierna clarified, but she realized how she sounded; doubtful, weak-willed in her belief of Lolth. In Dumaran, that was nearly as dangerous as her experiment. “She would have to leave Dumaran. You see how she’s changed physically, and it’s affecting her mentally. She’s in—some kind of pain when she’s not a drider, always thirsty. Not giving into that does damage to her psyche over time.”

Arjun thumbed his holy symbol, a sharp-limbed, bejewelled spider sitting on his collar that was identical to Nepenthe’s. “Maybe that’s a more perfect form? She understands something we never could.”

Vierna wanted to scream; that was part of what infuriated her. She didn’t like being in the dark. She agreed; maybe driders were meant to be just that, and not somewhere in the grey between drow and monster. “You’re not wrong. All I know is I don’t want that outcome, but it’s already too late. All of this is mitigation, nothing more.”

Arjun took hold of her upper arms, squeezing. “If that’s your goal, don’t give in to despair. You’re afraid and angry because you love her deeply. Use that, let it be your strength and your motivation.”

Vierna felt brittle, ossified and ready to crumble. Arjun’s grip held her upright. “Precipatory fear is still fear, Arjun. All of this is too new; I don’t know the rate of acceleration, I don’t know how much time is on the clock I’m working against. I feel like I’m grieving every day.”

“All the more reason to keep trying. I refuse to give up hope, but if it's as useless as you claim, then appreciate the time you’ve had with her, and will have. Celebrate. You are making a difference whether you agree or not.”

She bit back tears, leaning her head against his chest to hide her watery eyes. “I was confiding in you. Don’t tell Nepenthe any of what I’ve shared.” Azul, too, but he knew that; she had no idea what Nepenthe turned into, what went on in Vierna’s lab. 

“She doesn’t need to know,” Arjun agreed. “She has pride in who—and what—she is. I don’t know that she sees herself as something to be cured. She worries for you. No matter what happens, she loves and appreciates you.”

Vierna didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse. She didn’t know that anyone here, her wife included, would understand her point of view. Arjun was wise and a physical comfort, but he had known Nepenthe longer than Vierna. He was on Nepenthe’s side. He revered Lolth unconditionally; Lolth was their first love before Vierna had entered their lives. Maybe she was being selfish the more she tried to hold onto her.  

Azul would understand, perhaps. She was the closest to understanding by not having the full truth. Vierna wasn’t certain what depth Azul stood in her faith with Lolth—whether it was ankle-deep, waist-high, or like her wife, an oceans-worth of water above her head. Would knowing that Nepenthe became a drider make Azul feel more secure? Less? Her lack of insight made her question things—would having an answer ruin that?

More questions she wouldn’t have answers to because Azul wasn’t allowed to know. Not yet; there was the distant, very-real chance that her daughter would join her wife among the chosen who drank Lolth’s blood and then suffered her palliative remedy. 

She burned. If she couldn’t save her wife, then she had to forge ahead for her daughter. No matter the size of the chance, she had to.

Vierna drew away, drying her eyes and retrieving her cane from its alcove in the desk. “Thank you. I’ll clean this up. You should return to Azul before she gets curious.”

Arjun held up a hand. “Let me; you should take a break and eat. Azul will be curious regardless.”

Food and tea didn’t sound unappealing; they’d probably help. “I have magic.”

He wiggled his fingers. “I have gloves.”

“Fine. You can help, but I'm not leaving.”

[lightlycareless]

chapter 28 taking me out again,,, more character building,,

naoya just can not win this man is being attacked from every side (deserved). the way i screamed that he got suspended from work for MONTHS? he is about to be INSUFFERABLE (like more so than normal).

AND THE LINE ABT AS LONG AS THE KID IS A ZENIN IT DOESNT MATTER,,, I CAN JUST FEEL THE PSYCHIC DAMAGE HE TOOK IN THAT MOMENT. FULL ON GLASS SHATTER SOUND EFFECT TYPE SHIT. OBLITERATED.

also its so funny fr how he goes over reasons for y/n’s behavior towards him, trying to figure out what went wrong, and it just… never occurs maybe it was the abuse? the s/a? couldn’t possibly be. must be his brother. zero braincell behavior HOW is he this delusional

AND WHAT IS RANTA PLANNING?? whatever it is i know its a bad idea and he should stop. immediately. like maybe its not on purpose malicious but i still know its gonna turn out badly and NO ONE is going to be happy with the outcome

and on the other hand y/n and naoaki- incredible. amazing. are they STILL believing they’re being platonic with each other after all that?? the cuddling?? i can only imagine if they’d been walked in on like that

N THE END?? NAOYA SAW HIM LEAVING HER ROOM HE IS GONNA BE SO PISSED and theres so many QUESTIONS raised from that. like does naoaki know he saw him?? does this have any impact on Ranta’s Horrible Plan?? is naoyas first response gonna be storming over to naoaki or barging in on y/n??? theres SO MANY possibilities here and chapter 29 is gonna kill me

Hello!!!

I’m super glad you like this chapter hahahahahahahahh It’s the beginning of Naoya’s suffering, of what he deserves 😈

Had to get him where it hurts most, and that had to be his career as a sorcerer… a punishment that ended up being kind of a slap on the wrist tbh, because why wouldn’t that be the case 🙄 I think if it had been anyone else, like someone of a less impressive heritage they would’ve been permanently suspended—it’s the Zen’in playing their privilege card once again…

And yeah, I can’t imagine how insufferable he’s going to be on the incoming days hahahaha like, he’s essentially forced to stay in the estate since he can’t do his work anymore, and not only that, nobody wants to hang out with him!!!! Only ranta cares enough to stick around but even then, the poor boy was like “omg I hope he doesn’t kill me for approaching him” damn he truly has no friends 😂 (well, you reap what you sow) lmao

But for him to foolishly convince himself that if no one is going to care, y/n will just because of what she did and because she’s his wife? Come ooooon Naoya hahahahahahha that’s just another level of delusion, like wake up my dude. I’m glad the elders’ comment was quick to put him in his place though :> (YOU SAID IT WELL, HE WAS DEVASTATED HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH it’s like that one scene where Mahito and Sukura are laughing at Itadori and he's naiveness, I guess)

At the same time though, I was like: the elders should stfu, they have NO RIGHT to talk about Y/N get OUT.

But still not good enough for him to realize where the true guilt lies; well, like I said, it’s something that he can’t comprehend yet. Holding accountability is not something that the Zen’in are like… avid believers of, opting to just put the blame onto others, like poor Naoaki 😒 man, it’s not his fault that Naoya is an idiot and that y/n prefers him :^) (you reap what you sow part.2)

Ranta is the kind of person I truly, truly think he has good intentions… but it’s such a shame he’s investing all of his energy on Naoya 😭 guess he knows something we don’t… anyways, can’t wait to see his plan and how it will backfire on them :>

NOW NAOAKI AND Y/N THAT SCENE… was the one I posted earlier about haunting me hahhah I know that by writing that I will be crossing a line so to speak, but at the same time… come on. Like, the two are getting to know each other and spending time with one another… they’re bound to eventually want to do something a bit more personal (this was highly indulgent too hahah forgive me 😭) you know? And y/n was in desperate need of comfort, it was foul how her happiness was destroyed like that and so quickly too!! Hinata… please… just take her out of there…

Also, be careful with what you wish for, ‘cause it just might come true 😊😈

Now to your question about whether Naoaki saw him… maybe, I think he might’ve sensed him but since he was like not wanting to entertain anybody, he was like meh who cares goodbye!!! Besides, it’s stated that he’s become far more obvious when it comes to approaching y/n so maybe he really doesn’t care anymore lol

It’s completely reasonable to expect the worst considering all that happened in the chapters before and how I’ve portrayed Naoya, however, he is in a rattled state of mind so… guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens 😊

I’m super happy that you liked this chapter 🥺❤ ngl I was super nervous about it (more on that in the behind the scene notes) but reading your feedback is always reassuring to me 😭 thank you for you support!!! It motivates me to keep on writing :> I can’t wait for you to read the upcoming chapters!

I hope you have a wonderful week, take care, and hope to see you around!!

[arcxnumvitae]

L U R E (Harkan & Soon-hee)

@lunarxdaydream || Sexy ABC

L ─ Lingerie. Do they enjoy wearing it and/or seeing their partner in lingerie ?  What kind of lingerie do they find the sexiest ? Any other clothing they love seeing their partner in  ( like grey sweater pants, wearing nothing but an apron, really short shorts, etc… ) ?  Do they often wear what the other likes, just to please them ?

Soon-hee does like donning a nice and lacy thing every now and then whenever she feels like doing so. As for what she wears, she’s partial to a bustier to further accentuate her assets along with some lacy panties. 

I can’t think of anything someone else could wear that would really get her interest bar some nice lingerie themselves or being straight up nude. She did like Harkan in that maid outfit though, she’s always down for if he wants to slip on something revealing or lacy when with her.

And hahahaha........no. Basing something she does or puts on solely for the randos (my words) she picks up to sleep with every now and then? Even with lingerie, whenever she wears it it’s because it’s what she feels like wearing. Usually. She may make an exception if a certain demon wanted it and asked nicely enough.

U ─ Unusual. What’s the most unusual place they’ve had sex at/in ?  Was it a good experience ?  Would they repeat it ?  Is there an unusual place they’d like to try ?

Hell. It was with a fellow sin and she’s always found their romps together pretty enjoyable regardless the location, so she’d be down for repeats. As for anywhere she’d like to try, not really. If she hasn’t already had sex in a place, then there’s some reason why it should be avoided.

R ─ Recording. Have they ever filmed themselves having sex ?  Did they watch it together afterwards ?  Has anyone else seen their videos ?

She doesn’t let any of her casual one night flings record her and she’s also pretty much never interested in recording them either. The only time she bothered pulling out a phone to record something was with Zhaohui, and if I’m being completely honest she only did it to have a laugh at his expense at the old man’s confusion towards the concept. So that’s the only recording that exists and she’s pretty sure Zhaohui doesn’t even know how to get into the photo app to access it (which was also part of the joke for her).

E ─ Experimenting. Are they willing to experiment new things ?  Is there something they’d like to try with their partner, but haven’t had the chance yet ?  Any experiments gone wrong ?

She’s pretty open-minded barring a few hard no’s with casual one night stands. 

Something she’d like to try with Harkan? Hmm, she got pegging already...what peak hasn’t she climbed...? Maybe make him sit still and watch her masturbate? Harkan is in many ways a man without restraint, so she delights in the thought of him sitting there unable to indulge in something. Have I mentioned she’s a bit of a sadist?

Not with Harkan in particular but sure experiments have gone wrong in the past. I cannot confirm nor deny what befell the people who stepped into unnegotiated kink territory with Soon-hee.

[gaeilmeta]

Whoa

As the early months bustled along, it was only to be expected that a few of Cinderella’s proverbial other slippers might drop and one by one they did. These revelations gave an answer to the baffling question as to why her trove of exceptional endowments had yet to flourish and convey her beyond the confines of a dinky town. They also spoke to the resonating statement, ”....somebody like me” heard on the evening of our genesis.

The first slipper hit the floor pretty hard. As a young girl, she had fallen victim to pedophilia. Fred and Marcia who lived two streets over were Mom and Dad’s best pals and so when her parents went away she was often entrusted to the care of their great friends. Unknown to her parents, godfather Fred used those absences to groom and molest the petite miss left in his keeping.

come here little darling let’s brush back your hair

goodness what is it that makes you so sweet

has me act like a bee to the nectar I swear 

you know, that box full of candy you can’t help but to eat

maybe some tickles will show me exactly what’s where

by your sides, at your belly, on the bottoms of your feet

none of those, then I think it must be hiding down there

I’ll have to dig around for a while under your seat

pull off those panties, get your bottom all bare

and feel in both ends so the search is complete

 

now that you let me you should be ashamed

no good girl would tease me to do all them things

sure as shootin’ it’s you who’ll be blamed

they’ll say you’re one of those angels without any wings

your parents won’t love you, might even send you away

don’t forget too I’m your Dad’s boss down at the mill

he has to listen to me and do whatever I say

I can fire him from his job and I promise I will

don’t worry though I won’t tell a soul about our little play

secrets are safe when tongues are kept still

You might well imagine how hard it was for Mom when her little girl one day disclosed that Uncle Fred was in fact a perp. Fred and Marcia had been such close and trusted friends, making the enormity of the shock just too unbelievable. More than that, Mom didn’t really want to accept it as possible for her to have failed to protect her daughter. Mom’s initial stupor, unfortunately, left her psychologically injured daughter feeling not only doubted but also at fault for maybe having done something wrong without even knowing what it was that she did. This led to a huge and confused sense of guilt and even regret for having disclosed the foul matter at all. Worse, these malignancies were magnified several times over by the explosive violence and chaos that erupted when Dad was apprised. Needless to say, Mom, Dad and the victim were each branded with traumas that festered within and negatively impacted their family dynamics for years to come.

Next up, we arrive at the adolescent age of fourteen. Being a lowly high school ninth grader, she thought it especially “cool” that several junior and senior boys were interested in her and allowed her to be included in their social circle. The circumstance afforded her an unusual status, making her the envy of her girlfriends and granting her access to the automobiles and alcohol-fueled parties of the older crowd.

One afternoon while walking the roadside home, three of the older boys with whom she had partied pulled up in a shiny new Chevy Super Sport. They invited her to go cruising. Flattered, she accepted. Once in the car, she was immediately handed a bottle of beer and the tour began. After a while, it was observed that riding around with open bottles of beer was of course risky, so it was decided they’d drive to a relatively secluded spot along the railroad tracks that traversed the outskirts of town. There the car was parked and for no particular reason, the quartet began aimlessly walking the tracks with one remaining six-pack in hand. No doubt you’ve already guessed, it was in the woods just off the tracks where she was raped by all three of the boys. When recounting the event she tearfully heaved, “I stupidly thought they were my friends.” As is common among rape victims, she did not divulge the rape to anyone and only first told her mother years later.

Already bearing several severe scars in her still very early life, she naturally found it troubling to continue attending the high school where she couldn’t help but continually encounter the boys who had violated her. None of them were able to look her in the eye and avoided her as much as she did them. Still, that didn’t offer much solace. Floundering academically and at frequent odds with her parents, each being tormented by their individual wounds of heart and mind, she dropped out of school at the very tender age of sixteen, left home and incredibly set out to make her own way. Even with all of her gifts, it was a rough go and before very long she was gradually sinking, a waif amidst forces. She was sheltered only by the good graces of her girlfriend’s parents who allowed her to alternately hop from home to home. During this period she found a job at a pizza joint. It was there that she entered into a relationship which proved to be a grievous error.

At twenty-three Travis Penderson was a budding con man eminently on a path to nowhere. With the greatest of ease, he could fabricate intricate illusions and weave elaborate webs of lies out of the slick silk that slithered freely from his mouth. So consumed by the carbonated schemes he had bubbling in his head, he even convinced himself he would one day birth a surefire plot leading to fame and riches. While deludedly developing this grand plan, Travis in reality survived by smuggling and distributing illicit drugs. He surrounded himself with a squad of wannabe bikies who functioned as mules for authentic hard-core Canadian motorcycle gangs. Travis and his rag-tag cohorts shouldered all of the border crossing perils for chump change while the gangs up north kept the lion’s share of the profits. The crew typified what Randy Newman’s Fat Man would peg as little criminals.

Despite his defects, Travis recognized that the pretty, vivacious girl who took his pizza orders had the uncommon intelligence, talents, and moxie to be going somewhere he never could and figured he might be able to turn that to his advantage. He was also able to sense the vulnerability of her innocence, her dire predicament and her desperation to break out. Consequently, he pounced at the chance to seize the dangling dolly for his very own. She of course knew he was way full of it, but he did have the mystique of an outlaw, had money, soothing drugs and the kind of lies that she needed to hear. Filtered through the eyes of a pressure-cooking sixteen-year-old with meager means and fewer prospects, she regrettably regarded Harley hog riding Travis as a hand of rescue she had little option other than to accept. Thus ensued an oddly symbiotic, more often parasitic, on-and-off textbook relationship of domination, soul-sucking manipulation, psychological abuse and domestic violence that spanned more than four years. 

During the year prior to my strolling onto the stage, she had to her astounding and individual credit almost completely cleansed herself of Travis Penderson. She renegotiated the apartment lease shared with Travis into her name alone and pro se obtained a restraining order against him. With those, she cast Travis out, for the most part ridding herself of the leech save his lame and eventually dwindling attempts to ingratiate himself. Over the previous summer, she had also finished an entire high school equivalency program, begun her part-time modeling and secured a full-time position with the human service agency where we met. Shortly after we started canoodling I moved in with her. My place was more than a half-hour ride away while hers was only a few minutes from the community residence we managed. It was a logistical, financial and personal consolidation that benefited both of us.

Of course, our cohabitation resulted in my coming to know her with greater and greater intimacy. About six months in, the last of the sagging slippers spiraled into what had been up until then a fairly well-camouflaged rabbit hole. Being in the business of applied psychology I should’ve detected the signs sooner. Thing is, I was thoroughly beguiled by romance and the abundant arsenal of expert compensations she had honed over time.

The first red flag went for the most part undetected. Retrospectively it was during the second of our honeymoon months when her customarily cheerful disposition began losing a little luster. Over the course of a few weeks, her usually enthusiastic temperament eroded into a bit of “whatever” which over several more days degenerated into testiness. At work, this transformation was imperceptible, but at home, it showed. We had disagreements, arguments and our first-all out shouting match. At the time, I chalked it up to the adjustments couples need to make when discovering the shiny new object of their affection might not exactly be the dream person that was initially anticipated. A few days further on she missed popping up early to start breakfast. Then came the morning when she complained of debilitating fatigue and took to bed for the next day and a half. This was very much out of character, but she soon recovered, bouncing back to her genial self. All once again well with the universe, it was easy to simply blame the recent irritability on menstrual symptoms.

The second code red flashed another couple of months on. In similar fashion, there were a few weeks of increasing conflict between us. The arguments were worse this round since my budding sense of insecurity was forecasting an inevitable demise to our relationship. Reckoning that the college classes she had begun would soon be broadening her horizons, I figured my days were numbered. The Green Monster was gnawing on my bones and inflaming my formative fears of abandonment. I worried too that our eight-year age disparity would not survive her impending blossom. Her petulance and my colliding apprehensions brought about a few figurative knock-down-drag-outs. As had been the case previously, the tensions ultimately crumbled into a couple of days of bed rest. This time though, Little Miss Sunshine’s narcolepsy exhibited an unsettling resemblance to catatonia and gave me pause for a long hmmmm. As before though, she quickly rebounded and happy days were back again. I probably should’ve assigned greater importance to my uncomfortable observation. In defense, I can only claim that the chubby archer was still very active and had to be dipping his arrowheads into some sort of blinding concoction.

Having witnessed two contentious periods followed by twenty-four to forty-eight hours of sleep bordering on the cadaverous, it finally dawned on me that the arrival of our third round of rifts was likely pointing to issues more significant than merely troublesome menstrual symptoms. Her down days were just too extreme. She didn’t complain of severe cramping or any other customary miseries, and despite our domestic upheavals, she never exhibited other than exemplary behavior at work. Aside from her acute episodes, recoveries from her bleak bouts were relatively brisk and her general physical health was the superior sort enjoyed by most young adults. Menstruation being cyclical clued me to begin thinking in terms of cyclical disorders. She functioned far too well for what was then referred to as manic depression. However, while poking around that subject I came across a couple of abstracts that introduced me to manic depression’s little sister, cyclothymia.

I learned that cyclothymia, or more euphemistically bipolar lite, is a somewhat rarer and less conspicuous chemical disorder. Nonetheless, the condition is formidable and can be difficult to diagnose and manage. It’s characterized by fixed-period mood swings of varying degrees that differ in intensity from person to person. Of course, everyone experiences mood changes, but when one’s affect tracks a pattern rather than normative responses to ordinary conditions, that is to say when the frame doesn’t simply provide a boundary for the artwork but instead either influences, obscures or even dictates the content, the result is problematic. The high side or manic phase of cyclothymia, akin to bipolar disorder, often features pronounced exuberance, impulsiveness, overconfidence, overachievement, insomnia and hypersexuality. The lower end or depressive phase includes irritability, despair, suicidal ideation, lethargy and hypersomnia. With the notion of cyclothymia on the table the pieces of the puzzle began to almost magnetically snap into place. It accounted for her impeccable work performance, the juggling of multiple projects, the adroit social skills, the all-night baking and cooking sessions, the three a.m. fish tank cleanings, and yes, the super-sized sex too. It also figured into her occasional bursts of temper, lacerating slights, distraction, expressions of despair and what I would sometimes refer to as hibernation. The only component left to establish was the duration of the orbit. After a bit of calendar study, the periodicity emerged. It was a sixty-day rotation. The interval initially proved tricky to tease out because it was on an unintuitive, every-other-month sequence confoundingly masked by her closely coinciding menstruation.

The subtle subterranean rhythm of her affliction ran as an obscured undercurrent. She had no practical awareness of her slowly pirouetting chemical warp, no notion of being sealed inside a seesawing jar of molasses, perpetually migrating from a ventral striatum’s elation on one end to an anterior insula despondency at the other. Her world was a water globe menagerie of joy and sorrow, a mosaic of light and shadow rolling across the calendar. Though caught between a breathless present and a monotonous past, the oscillating pattern always escaped her. Intertwined with her menstruation, she experienced the sway as a seamless tapestry of the existential ordinary. Her highs were considered surges of ambition and lows nothing more than the usual consequences of day-in-day-out pressures, punctuated now and then by hormonal collapses. Alike the old adage, she was prevented from seeing the forest for the trees. I, on the other hand, had the advantage of an outsider’s unobstructed perspective. My unique circumstance, being almost continuously in her presence, afforded me an aerial drone’s overview from which to observe her behavior not only in the present but the recent past and predictable future as well. The momentum of her congeniality and diamond-hard dedication to work kept her downward spirals well concealed from clients, co-workers and other casual contacts. She simply refused, via sheer will, to allow the quicksands or her psyche to interfere. It was only when she reached home that she would relent to the exhaustion of resisting her melancholy, give in to its intermittent course and sooner or later be consumed for a day or two.

Once I had convinced myself my suspicions were legitimate, I felt a begrudging responsibility to bring my discovery to her attention and offer what help I could with assessment and management. I use the word begrudging because her disorder served to augment a host of uniquely wonderful and highly desirable qualities. It magnified her intelligence and aural charisma, made her one in a million and ignited the unique spark that caused nearly everyone around her to feel suddenly elevated into the ranks of a special club they hadn’t until just then realized they were members. She was vibrant, fun, talented, entertaining. I didn’t want any of that to be dulled or diluted, and selfishly, certainly not for the industrial strength sex to be diminished even one iota. On the other hand, the middle-school rows, the instances of self-loathing, and the worrisome installments of virtual paralysis, though relatively brief, were no fun for me and immeasurably worse for her. I hated to see her suffer.

Despite making certain she was on an upswing when I first broached the idea of cyclothymia, it still didn’t go over well. Having it suggested to anyone that they might not be in complete control is a frightening and, on some levels, insulting proposal.

“Oh, I get it, you’re telling me I’m a lunatic and should have my head examined because you think I’m so phenomenal and you love me so much!” Stomp, stomp, stomp and slammo goes the door.

Needless to say, for a while it was the source and subject of intense argument, to put it mildly. Only after I had her agree to a demonstration I devised did she begin to entertain the possibility that a cyclothymic specter might be afoot. Without disclosing the content, I wrote down several predictions about her future disposition and anticipated behavior, sealed them in an envelope and had her date it. When my predictions were later opened and proved to be accurate, she assented to confer with a mutually trusted colleague of ours who was also a psychiatrist. Thereafter an extensive exam was pursued followed by medication trials. Before long an efficacious pharmaceutical was found and an optimal treatment dose was established. Much to my surprise and great relief, the medication worked to alleviate most of her symptoms and only marginally muffled her many sensational attributes. Hallelujah!

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1999 It’s prime time now, but as of yet, all’s quiet in Freeloaderville. No sounds or cars yet.

Later…

Two white girls are over playing ball, but amazingly, I can’t hear a thing even with the fan on low. That’s because they’re not using a basketball, which is heavier. Guess who the girls are? From the renters across the street. I told Tom just last week too, that they’d make it over here to use the hoop. It doesn’t look like the collie kids, and like I said, judging by the length of time this hoop went unused by the collie kids, I really think they had a fight with the bitch. Tom said he doesn’t think the kids live across the street. He thinks they only come on weekends, maybe even just Sundays. That’d explain why I don’t hear kids there during the week. I’m glad these renters aren’t next door. They are in and out and in and out. The door slamming would be about as bad as it was when the cock lived here.

Later…

The white car came and went at 3:00. The two girls have been playing ball on and off. I could be wrong about them being associated with the renters, cuz I saw them in the collie driveway. Maybe one of them is renter-associated, cuz Tom said he saw the collie kids playing with a renter kid when they first moved in.

I can’t believe Paula didn’t leave any messages today, and I can’t believe how good Andy’s been with not calling on the weekends. Maybe my good-natured lecture on being selfish and complying with simple, reasonable requests, really did sink into him.

Paula, though, can be a real pest these days. She left two messages yesterday. Maybe she’ll get the hint that I can’t call her long-distance every day and that even if she were local, me and phones don’t go together anymore like they used to.

Tom downloaded another word processor for me to check out, but once again, I wasn’t too thrilled with it. He didn’t waste his time, though, cuz there are other things within the program besides a word processor, so he’s gonna keep it for himself.

I wonder if Veronica will be in tonight. Tom says she’s this 19-year-old who’s a lesbian but doesn’t know it yet. She’s just like most butches and males - always fighting. She got arrested for fighting recently.

They got gift certificates for working on a Saturday and they’re for Red Lobster. I’ll be looking forward to going there, but will some rude fuck of a kid throw food at us like on our anniversary?

Later…

I made the stupid mistake of screwing today. It went as planned - to break me open again he only stood on the side and I had to stop him just a few minutes into it. Yeah, well it hurt like hell and I can’t take it anymore. I just can’t go through the irritation, the conditions, the control, the predictability, and the same old shit with him year after year. Then again, doing the same thing every time we screw and doing it part-time is nothing compared to what I go through physically. I can love him forever, I can be with him forever, but he needs to take care of himself for sex. As you know, I’ve never really enjoyed sex with anyone other than in my fantasies, and have never had a happy, healthy, normal sex life. I’m just not meant to have that with anyone. Sex has been more problems, conflict, and work, than fun. Today I had decided to finger myself during the week to help be able to stand the sex every 1-4 weeks, but after thinking about it, I decided I didn’t want to live like that. That’d take all the enjoyment out of it, which time alone has already helped to do enough of, and turn it into a total chore. If it’s gonna be nothing but a painful job - forget it. So I told Tom that I’ve reached my fill and that if he’s right about us having more time after his ma dies, and if God doesn’t replace that time with some other shit, then maybe I’ll reconsider.

God, why won’t you take our daughter off our hands?! Enough is enough! Take her to your kingdom! Take her to be with Dad! We need to live our lives and we need to move on!

March being just a few hours away, has brought good feelings. I mean, I still vibe us moving in June, but logically speaking, I just don’t see how we can sell the house and be out of here within 30 days of putting up a for-sale sign. Tom said that in mid-March, he’d be able to say more surely whether or not we could move in June. If his mother would hurry up and die we could, but no, God’s just so determined to have her hold our lives back! What? Is she compensation for us getting out of having to have a kid hold us back?

Tom said that when he goes to do her taxes, he’ll get a better idea of what’s in her accounts, and try to coax her into giving us each $10,000 like Mary was trying to coax the selfish little user to do.

Speaking of compensation, it’d be nice if Giselle came early to make up for Maria’s arriving late, but I won’t hold my breath.

I had a vibe that some shit would go down 2-5 years after we moved. Good or bad, I’m not sure. It’s a sudden, major change, that could cause us to feel anxious and pressured, but all I can think of is a home business of some kind. However, the vibe’s faded a bit, so I guess that’s good. As long as it’s not an accident or an illness. It’s just that sudden changes are usually the ones that aren’t good. Good changes usually take time.

The white car returned at 6:30. This is the car with the trunk rack and with the twin boys. I figured there’d be a ball game, but nope. I saw one of the boys playing with a tiny football, but after unloading the trunk and slamming doors, this car pulled out and the bitch was in for the night. Did the bitch cut her hair to her shoulders? Or was that the owner of this car? Whoever this plain blob of brown was, was about the same size as the bitch, so maybe it was her sister. It wore glasses too.

Tom said he noticed something. That I was less tight due to not needing much heat lately which is letting the humidity level rise a bit. He said he thinks that both extremes bother me; if it’s too humid or too dry. Could very well be the case.

I’ve been sleeping really weirdly these past few days. I slept so long a couple of nights ago that I ended up being up 20 hours which was till 4 PM yesterday. Then I woke up 4 hours later at 9 PM. I took a Benadryl and ended up sleeping till 9 AM! That means I could very well be up till 6:00 this morning. If that happens, getting up at 10:30 won’t kill me, since I’m very caught up in my sleep. It should only take me about 40 minutes for her to clean me and pull the routine cavity scam on me along with the doctor, then about 10 with Melanie, then about 2 to make the appointments for my next visit with Melanie and for my filling. Nonetheless, I’m gonna take a Benadryl at midnight. Maybe it’ll relax me enough to get 6 hours of sleep instead of 4. I think I’d feel better with that.

I started a book called There He Keeps Them Very Well. It’s good so far, but there were a couple of other books I tried out that I didn’t like. I’m still doing well this time. Only 3 books I couldn’t get into, rather than 6.

A few nights ago I checked out a one-hour documentary on a state funny farm, and what a crock! Even if I hadn’t been in a state nuthouse myself, I could see that this was total BS with nothing more than actors acting out a script. First of all, they don’t have restaurants in state nut wards. They also don’t go outside at night and dance to music on the radio. Also, every person there referred to what they did as “the crime” and they all sounded too articulate to be crazy. Also, they were all just too damn remorseful for what they did.

A real funny farm consists of people 8 months pregnant who deny they’re even pregnant. Of people openly masturbating. Of people who can’t talk well, can’t think well, and don’t even know what year it is. I should know. I’ve been in a state funny farm, and this is exactly what I saw there.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1999 God, I am so sick of babies, babies, babies! There’s a woman having a kid in my book and in the movie I taped, not that the book and movie weren’t good, nonetheless. I also still have no desire whatsoever to throw my life away on a kid, but still, I’m sick of it. Also, the less I hear about this subject, the better. I don’t want to take even the tiniest chance of rekindling that old desire and going through another 5-10 years of misery. I’ve fully accepted and resigned myself to the fact that there’ll be no kid and I need things to stay as they have been.

As for sex, I think it’s about time now to tell him that I’ve got to hang that up. I told him enough times that I can’t do part-time sex, although I wish to hell I could, and telling him this never changed a thing. I don’t just not want to have sex with him cuz of how I don’t desire him sexually, but the longer we go without it, the more nervous I am about the idea of starting it up again. I don’t want to have to feel like I’m a virgin all over again.

Andy called at midnight and hung up. The call came up as “private” but it could be related to that blackie that called earlier. Andy’s not big on hanging on my machine for ten seconds or so and then hanging up, though, so it was probably connected to the blackie.

When I mentioned having dropped hints the last time about my catching onto the dentist’s automatic filling scam, Tom said he thought about it, and since I can’t brush well with the braces, he said I may really need a filling. Alright, alright. This time when I’m told I have a cavity I’ll play along with it, but next time, I’m not gonna buy it. I don’t want to have to switch dentists, though. The waiting room is almost always empty when we go there and if it isn’t, it’s just one or two other adults. Not a bunch of screaming kids. Also, Mel’s always on time.

I had a white fungus-like thing on the back of my tongue. Tom got some antiseptic mouthwash and it’s helped it so far. Tom said I shouldn’t need a doctor over it. I hope not!

Later…

The dark green car was here today at 9:00 this morning. For a second, I thought I heard the faint thump of bass, but if I did, it was gone as soon as I thought I heard it. They made their usual door-slamming production out of going out this morning, and the bitch appeared pissed off as usual. All I saw was her and some huge fat woman. The woman was wearing dark green, her hair was kind of straight and it was almost to her shoulders. She and the bitch were passing around some black boy that was about oh, I’d say a year or two old.

Later…

The green car returned an hour and a half later at 10:30 and stayed till 1:00. I counted nine door slams. The porker and the anorexic cunt went to McDonald’s, and I saw the porker place a McDonald’s bag on the roof of the car while she got shit out of the front and backseat. I could see this from the side window.

Right now, our beautiful city moochers are getting their lawn done.

Tom says subsidized housing isn’t welfare. It’s for the working poor, although she still does get food stamps, no doubt. It’s the same thing. As I told him, she should’ve always been in a job that pays enough to support her and that mistake, rather than depending on the city. He says the city’s helping her so she can get a sufficient paying job. But why couldn’t she do that on her own in the first place? She’s stupid, selfish and rude, but she’s able-bodied enough and can keep a schedule, so why couldn’t she have a sufficient enough paying job to begin with? She’s no doubt always had her father around to use to babysit the mistake, so what’s the problem here? There are enough people out there who get jobs that’d support two or more people without having to mooch off of the city first in order to do it. Look at Tom and his job. He didn’t need to use the city to work his way up to where he is so why should she have to? I guess she’s just that stupid. And that mean too, and potential employers of decent, upscale jobs can sense this. I mean, looking at the letters she left in our mailbox slut tells me how stupid she is right there. Bitch can’t spell worth shit. Also, it only took two ignored requests that the music is lowered in order for me to get the hint at how mean and self-absorbed this pitiful creature is.

They haven’t finished prettying up her lawn yet. I can still hear the equipment buzzing over there.

Later…

Damn! They took forfuckingever to do their lawn. How could it take over an hour? Especially with more than one person working. What’s she getting her fucking yard done for, anyway? She has Bermuda grass. All she should get at this time of year is weeds. She’s too lazy to even do that herself?

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1999 Tom, who got up a little while ago, thinks Ashley and Katie are pregnant. I hope so. It does look like they’re getting tummies and they’re wheeling an awful lot.

Later…

I’m taping a doll show right now. Even though I won’t be getting another doll for a while, it won’t hurt to keep up with what’s out there and write down code numbers. That way, when it’s time to get another doll again, I’ll at least have some numbers.

It’s going to be in the low 80s these next few days. Already, we’re going from winter right into summer. And yet Paula’s under a few inches of snow and is freezing at 20º or less!

Speaking of Paula, I never thought that she of all people would become such a pest! She’s been calling so much, even from 3000 miles away. She left the message early today and when Tom told me about it when I got up just after 1:00 this afternoon, I was like - again? I’m not calling her back for a few days since we just talked for quite a while. Especially while I know that kid’s gonna be there. I’ll call next week when he’s at school (with my luck he’d be homesick or snowed in). Then I unexpectedly fell back asleep till 8:00 (I’m gonna make it to Mel’s after all) and called her at 11:00 her time. I figured she might still be up and that the kid would be asleep, but she wasn’t. I woke her up. She asked if she could call me in the morning. I told her she may have a hard time reaching me during weekends and that I had an appointment on Monday, but that I’d try her on Tuesday if I didn’t talk to her before then.

Later…

They had a 40” doll for just $300, but she was ugly. All the dolls were boring or ugly and I’ve seen some of them before.

A part of me wishes this cat wouldn’t be around come moving day. He fucking drives me nuts with his whining! I went out to throw a few heavy pieces on the line till tomorrow afternoon and the fucking thing whined at the door till I was done. He can’t just wait at the door quietly? So, knowing Tom was asleep under the fan, I screamed at him in frustration which set the dogs off. I’m sure the freeloaders, whose lights were on, heard me too. It’s like a magic button - scream and the dogs automatically go off. It’s like scream-a-bark versus dial-a-ride. Anytime I want to hear them, although I’d have to be a little nutso to want to, all I have to do is scream. Or at least yell.

Sounds like some stupid black guy was given the wrong number at a bar by some female who just couldn’t say no. About 20 minutes ago I noticed a payphone calling and figured it was Mary who broke down somewhere. Of course, I wasn’t about to wake my husband who had to get up for work at 6:00 AM to go rescue her. She was on her own as far as I was concerned. However, no one spoke during the few seconds of their message, so I knew that ruled out Mary. Then I wondered if Andy was visiting some phoneless friend and went to a nearby payphone figuring he was close enough to my house to call about a visit, but nope. Some idiot whose name showed up as Elizabeth J called from their house a few minutes later, or someone else’s house, and muttered something inaudible when I answered. I hung up after letting him know he had the wrong number and then he called a third time. This time I let the machine deal with it. There are other things I want to do than the phone. I’m doing laundry now and I want to finish the book I got. So far, I’m having excellent book luck this time around. It seems like there may be only one book I don’t like within this batch.

Yesterday, I remembered I had Giselle on tape from an earlier doll show so I showed her to Tom. They describe her as having auburn hair. That’d be different, but it looks brunette on the TV. Tom said her dress didn’t look like something a ballerina would wear. I don’t know about that, but it’s a gorgeous dress, nonetheless.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1999 The dark red car showed up at around 4:00. The cock and kid got out of the car, then the cock got back in and they left.

Finally - a light, low-calorie popcorn that actually tastes good. It’s not the greatest, but it’s good enough. At 100 calories per bag, I can have 2-3 of these a day. Tom got it in a new grocery store that just went up nearby.

I had a shiny, floral tank dress that I couldn’t wear cuz it was so itchy, so I softened it up by washing it and putting in tons of fabric softener. Now it’s wearable.

I got a total kick out of listening to Paula tell me how it’s 20º there and how she had to shovel her walkway, while it’s in the 80s here and I was sweating my ass off. The living room gets quite warm in the afternoons lately, but as Tom reminded me, I can just flip the switch and cool it down if I need to. Oh yeah, that’s right. I keep forgetting it’s that easy now.

For the first time in my life, I’m shocked to say that I’m actually proud of Paula. She signed up for training to be a nurse’s aide. Now that’s a big step for her! I don’t feel that it’ll work out, and I can’t picture her holding a decent job steadily, but at least she’s trying.

I’m very glad that she looks up to me and considers me such a good friend whom she likes to confide in, I know she’s very bored and lonely, but I wish she’d call a little less often. She’s almost as bad as Andy and she’s worse with the eating. Every single time we talk she’s munching on something. And she complains about her weight? She also yells at the kid every time we talk too, and it gets old. Nonetheless, I do miss her.

She mainly called to tell me the usual - man troubles. I get a kick out of how she told me when she moved into her new place last week that she was gonna stay there for a while, yet she’s already talking about moving again. But why? She said it’s very quiet where she is. There’s a woman (who dances topless), her boyfriend, her 16-year-old daughter above her, and an old couple downstairs who are hardly ever home.

I saw a girl at the renter’s watering the yard. God, they are home a lot! And there are so many people over there. In fact, I just peeked out and could see at least four people. Most of them went inside, but there was someone out on the front patio. They’re typical Arizonans - hanging out in front, but not the back. I can’t believe I don’t hear their dog, though. Neither of us has seen it, so I wonder if it’s even been there. Are they gonna work on their cars tonight?

I changed the pig and mice cages today. Tomorrow, I’ll tackle the rats. Katie has a slight belly bulge, but it could very well be because someone’s been feeding her real well. I’m starting to wonder if there’ll be any babies. If not, I’ll just try again to get pregnant females. If I can’t, I can always get a male just to do the job.

OK, now I’ll get into the toy store. I was amazed at how dead it was. True to what I felt, there weren’t any dolls I wanted, other than the Barbies I got. I got another blond Barbie who’s a little different than the other blond Barbie. This one has an open smile so you can see white representing the teeth. She also has no bangs and her hair is only to her waist and is curly. I got this one cuz of its dress. It’s a beautiful bold pink satin gown with an outer layer of pink chiffon with gold accents. I think she was meant to be one of those collector’s ones that you don’t take out of the box. This is because of how she was packed in and how beautifully decorated the box was. Her legs also don’t bend like most Barbies and her pretty pink slippers are pretty much molded to her feet like Patrice’s ballet slippers and Summer Dream’s heels. She came with a gold crown with pink gemstones and a gold necklace. She has gold shiny earrings and a matching ring. She’s called Princess Barbie. The Barbies that aren’t blond have different names, but Barbie is the original blond Barbie’s name. I couldn’t believe the prices of some of them. I expected to find Barbies no cheaper than $12, but Princess Barbie was $11, Christie was $5, and I’m not sure about the other one. Christie’s a black Barbie with black curly hair to the waist with no bangs. She came in a 1-piece aqua bathing suit with pink splotches outlined in purple. It’s got glitter on it, too. There were ruffles at the hips that I thought looked tacky so I trimmed them off. She has aqua sunglasses on her head and three aqua bracelets. I took one off and put it on her ankle. The other one, Teresa, is white and she has brown crimped hair to the butt. She has no bangs either, but her hair’s parted on the side. Exactly what I wanted. I had originally planned to get one more black one and I was gonna crimp her hair. Teresa came in a knit aqua bikini with a short, denim wrap-around skirt. The top of the bikini has orange stripes going across it and the bottoms are all aqua. She has an open white smile like Princess Barbie, whereas the first Barbie I got, along with Christie, has closed-lipped smiles. Teresa came with a tattoo on one of her outer thighs and two small sheets of tattoos that I’d had before. I have a little patch of butterflies and flowers on my hand right now, but I’ll save the others for some other time. She had one of those necklaces that I used to make out of embroidery floss. She also had two on her wrist, but I put one of them on her ankle. Teresa’s and Princess Barbie’s arms move outward, as well as front to back.

I’m definitely done collecting Barbies. They’re too little and I have enough of a variety now, although I wouldn’t mind taking the zillions of different awesome outfits they have. Barbie’s really come a long way. They even had a handicapped Barbie in a wheelchair! They had a Hispanic Barbie and a redhead one too, but I didn’t care for their outfits. I’ll have a Hispanic porcelain doll and someday I’ll have a redheaded one too. I have the four Barbies displayed nicely in the little living room window that’s a square foot wide. Even though its glass is translucent, the sun at this time of year can be blinding at certain times of the day, so I put the up duct cover in it, then stood Princess Barbie in the middle, Barbie standing on one side, Teresa on another, and Christie’s sitting down with her legs dangling off the sill.

I was amazed to find some porcelain dolls there and some of the more expensive collector’s Barbies there. Why would they sell breakable dolls in a toy store and Barbies that cost $150 that you don’t give kids to play with?

Tom said the porcelain dolls, which were about 17”, were the same ugly ones they had in the grocery store that started selling for $20 and dropped down to $12. Most of them were pretty boring except for one of them. One had nice long hair and a nice pink dress. A 17” porcelain doll for as low as $12-$20? Wow!!

Their puzzles were boring.

When we got home, Tom called and ordered Giselle for me. They say she’ll arrive on 3/6, but I know that really means she’s to be here on 3/11.

I watched the doll show last night, figuring I’d see a doll that’d take my breath away now that I ordered Giselle, but I didn’t. They had a couple of OK dolls, but the others were either boring or ugly.

I have a couple of goals and that’s to get a 30”-36” doll someday, and another realistic-looking one like Bailey. Well, I’d like a few of each, but I highly doubt that’s possible, even with the material nature of it. Hopefully, I can someday make something like this myself.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get my period like I thought I was going to and get relief for these sore tits. It was just one of those spots I often have a few days to a week before my period. Only this was a little more than just a little spot. That’s why I thought it was starting.

This is the second week in a row that Tom said we’d get together during the week, but that never happened. There was time a couple of nights before work, but he didn’t bring it up, so I sure as hell wasn’t about to.

I sent some superimposed pictures to Kim and Bob.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1999 Bitch and Bill left at 4:30. Guess he’s taking her grocery shopping today.

I’m keeping a log of my weight in my “whatever” file, so if I don’t mention my weight as much here, that’s why.

Later…

Bill just brought back the bitch and the dude that I think lives here, whether it’s the cock or not. It wore a red cap and it got metal-rimmed glasses just like the bitch. Bill parked with the trunk facing the house, so I guess I was right about them getting groceries. They probably went grocery shopping, then picked him up, or picked him up first, then shopped.

I would write about the three Barbie dolls I got today and how I ordered Giselle, but I’m too tired to do it now. I slept for barely five hours.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1999 I certainly don’t have as much to say today as I did yesterday.

My period’s starting. I’m a week early, but I knew I would be. As soon as I realized just how sore my tits were so soon after my last period, I knew I’d get it early.

Andy’s being a pest. This is the third time in two days that he’s called. I’m gonna just ignore him for a while. Besides, I want to do other things. I want to read. I don’t want to play phone. Then again, that may not have been him who called me just now unless he hasn’t left his message yet. I thought it had been more than three minutes from when the phone rang to when I checked, but I don’t know. Lately, I get messageless calls from a private source about once a day. Maybe it’s him calling just so he can annoy me with having to hear the phone ring and go check it out, but maybe it’s not.

In a message Andy did leave earlier, he said he loved the superimposed pictures. Also, someone he knows is letting him use a piano. It’s not an upright, so how’s he gonna fit it in his house? His house is smaller than Tom’s parents’ house was.

I called Tammy and she said she got the superimposed pictures today. All she said was “Yeah” when I said, “Aren’t they cool?” She never says much about things like that. She did say something else that was typical of her. She was sick. She had pneumonia. Yeah, I should’ve known she’d have something.

Later…

Here come the evening sales calls. Lately, they’ve been mostly confined to the evenings. It used to be that there’d be just as many in the mornings and afternoons, but lately the morning and afternoon calls have lessened.

I wish it were tomorrow at around 2 PM! That’s when we’re gonna go to the toy store and man is it gonna be a screaming mass of kids! Well, at least if I find anything I like, I won’t have to wait for it to be delivered and worry that it’ll be misdelivered. I still can’t imagine this store having any dolls I’d want other than a black Barbie doll, Barbie clothes, and puzzles. However, if I don’t find any dolls I want, I’ve got to be careful not to spend more than $10 of my $60 so I can then go ahead and order Giselle if she’s still available. If she’s not, then I’ll just have to start all over again. There’s gonna be a doll show tomorrow that I’ll tape, but I’m sure it’ll have the same old stuff and no Glenora. Maybe I’ll take some change I’ve got saved up, just in case I want to get $20 worth of puzzles and whatever else. Tom says I’ll like their stickers and markers. But I don’t need markers right now and I don’t do stickers anymore. The stickers were for decorating my journals before I started journaling on the computer only.

Starting Thursday, Tom says he’s gonna get the bulk stuff out through to Saturday or Sunday. He said he doesn’t want to start putting anything out on a weekend, cuz others will run and throw stuff out too and he won’t have any more room left. He said he’s noticed that if he puts a branch out there, they all come and load up the allotted space in the alley for bulk stuff when it’s time for that. It’s as if they remind him to do this too. No one can put stuff out till he does. Anyway, this time around, he’ll be hauling out shit from the garage.

Later…

He says that next month when he goes to put the vent in the bathroom, he’ll go ahead and put in a doggie door in the back door since they’re easy to put in. That ought to be an asset to selling this house since 8 out of 10 houses have dogs, but then again, maybe not cuz 8 out of 10 people have dogs in their yards, not in their houses. They don’t allow them in their houses. I take it they come in different sizes and that we’ll be getting one that a large dog couldn’t fit through, so if the next people did plan to use it, they’d be out of luck if they have a German shepherd. There is a doggie door in the back room alcove that David put in, but it’s been sealed up.

I heard from the renters an hour ago, but only for a few minutes, and it was nothing. All I heard was a faint beat of a drum. No bass or anything obnoxiously loud. It was coming from a car with its hood open. This is the third car I’ve seen with its hood open. Guess they work inside hoods a lot.

I cannot figure out these freeloaders for the life of me. I saw the dark red car again and from what I saw, the cock left in the passenger seat, but they didn’t pick up or drop off the mistake. It appeared that they drove up, he ran into the house, ran back out, then they left. Tom doesn’t think the cock lives there. I don’t know. I don’t know who the fuck lives there anymore. I’m only sure of the bitch and the mistake that’s now about three years old. It looks like there’s an even younger kid over there now, but if it lives there, I don’t know. It’s not hers, cuz if she’d had any kids since she’s lived here, we’d have noticed. Maybe it’s a sister who’s doing jail time. Maybe that’s why the two white cars haven’t been showing up lately. Cuz the ladies who drive them are in trouble doing time? And maybe she’s watching this kid till its mother’s free. Bill brought the bitch back today and I saw the bitch get out of the car with a kid about one year old. Then Bill left shortly after. Unless Bill took it with him or someone came and got it, it’s still in that house. Who is it? What’s it doing there? Just how many people live there? Well, as long as they don’t force any bass or barks on me and invade my house with their shit, they can do as they please.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1999 I have so much to write about! I hope I remember to say all I want to say, but let’s start with the freeloaders. To my surprise, they were quiet all weekend. And I was wide awake all day. There’s bound to be compensation for this sooner or later, but the only vehicle I saw over there was Bill’s. He wasn’t here for long when I heard his car start up with its typical scratchy, wheezy screech, and drive away.

At 10 PM on Friday, I saw a male blackie of about 6’ and the mistake being dropped off in the street. It was too dark for me to see the car, but who was this dude? The teenager? The cock? Someone else? Do they live there? I wouldn’t be surprised if it still isn’t just the bitch and mistake living there. I also wouldn’t be surprised if the lease only allowed just the bitch and mistake to live there, either.

Sunday, a carpet cleaning truck was parked on the street in front of their place. I was surprised to see them there on a Sunday, but Tom says that’s common. Wish the city would cater to our carpets for free! Today, there was a large white pickup that said: City of Phoenix - Housing. Tom said that that fits with the carpet cleaning truck. He says whenever they have that the city shows up shortly after. I haven’t noticed the connection, but it makes sense.

If the kid was picked up this morning, but of course Bill’s here, I didn’t hear it. I still would like to know why Bill’s here all day if the kid isn’t. He must really hate where he lives, and he must be one desperate, lonely sucker! I feel sorry for the man, though, and hold no animosity towards the guy. He never wronged me in any way like his sick daughter. Or his granddaughter. Tom wonders, since Bill’s so old, if that isn’t her grandfather, rather than her father, but I don’t know. I think it’s her father. But it’s also hard to judge this cuz it’s hard to judge that bitch’s age. I just can’t tell how old she is. Tom thinks the early 20s, but to me, she looks mid-30s.

I haven’t heard a thing in the way of music from the renters. That white car hasn’t returned and that was the only car that seemed to have that kind of a stereo. Now there’s some maroon-colored car to go with the red one.

There were a couple of kids playing ball in the renter’s driveway on Saturday. It wasn’t nearly as obnoxious as the freeloaders, cuz it was across the street and not just a few feet from our walls, and it was a plastic ball. Not a heavy basketball.

The only other annoyance was this car somewhere around here. It was even more annoying than the ball bouncing across the street, cuz the fan didn’t drown it out too well. Some asshole around here with a loud engine that might’ve been a motorcycle engine, would sit there and rev up his engine, then let it die down, then he’d gun his engine again, and he’d do this on and off for 15 minutes. Was he that hard up for attention and acknowledgment? Or was he just simply fucked?

Katie and Ashley still show no apparent signs of being pregnant, so if they don’t have babies by March 4th, which would be the maximum time since I got them that they carry babies, then they’re either females who never got pregnant, or they’re males. I doubt they’re males, but for a minute yesterday, it did look like Katie was trying to screw Star. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens. If these were males, it’d still be OK, cuz I’d just bring them back to the store along with the male babies that Star, Bandit, Shy, Patch, and the two Cocoas may have. Like I said, I doubt it, though cuz I’d think that if they were males, we’d have both seen more obvious signs of that by now! They’d be jumping those ladies left and right!

Later…

I just went out back and took a closer look at the pool water around the edges of the pool cover, and yuck! It was very green. That’s Tom for you. He’s great with the bare necessities but lousy at keeping up with the pool and yard work. So I wound the cover on its reel hoping that cooling things down a bit would help. Also, it looks better, even if it’s green. Green water looks better than a pool cover.

I put a bowl of water out for Shiny since the pool was so gross. The reason I stopped putting water bowls out for him was cuz he’d ignore them and get drinks out of the pool. Also, the water bowl would get algae and all kinds of gross shit in it that was nearly impossible to clean out. So I’ll save our margarine containers, and that way, he can regularly have something new to drink out of.

I called Tammy’s to tell her to look for some wild mail from us, which I’ll get into later, but Becky was there alone with a bad stomach. You can leave an 11-year-old alone? I don’t know enough about kids to know this. I mean, I know you can’t leave a 4-year-old alone, but I don’t know about an 11-year-old.

We haven’t had any need to deal with the leak from the toilet tank yet, but Tom got rid of that fucked up push-button and put a regular handle back on the toilet. Words cannot describe how wonderful it is to just quickly flush a toilet again! I’m gonna savor every moment of this, cuz I know it’s just a matter of time before there’s another major toilet nuisance. I mean, first it flushed so sluggishly that most of the time toilet paper and shit wouldn’t get flushed. Then it would leak from within the inside due to a leak in the flap. Then the handle would get hung up and the water would keep running and running. Then we had to deal with the push button that you had to push and hold in so hard for 20 seconds that you felt like your fingers were gonna break. Am I forgetting anything else? Anyway, I’m sure the leak at the bottom of the tank will be our next major problem. If not, God will find something else. For now, though, it’s great if I wake up in the middle of my sleep, cuz all I have to do is just tap the handle. No more having to stand there and wait for the fucking thing to flush while I’m dog-tired midway through my sleep.

I just began a book called Ghost Fire and it looks like I’m gonna like it.

Looks like Caddie Kid’s been replaced. There’s this light gray car, an old piece of shit, that’s been banging by the last few days. Although it really isn’t as bad as caddie kid. No one can be that bad, I don’t think. Yeah, I knew the peace from the stereos wouldn’t last. It goes in cycles around here.

Tom was my piss courier this morning and drove a sample of my piss to the doctor’s office just like they asked me to do when I finished my antibiotics. I finished them yesterday and I hope I sleep better now that I’m off of them. Last night and two nights ago, I only got 4-5 hours of sleep. Yet I felt amazingly good for such a lack of sleep. Not smoking helps. And not having to do it every day for four months helps, too.

The current plan is to go to a toy store to check out their dolls on Friday. Did I tell you about last Thursday and Friday night’s doll shows? Shit! They’re getting worse. They’re getting more expensive and more repetitious. Usually, they show a quick shot of the dolls they’re gonna show, then they spend 5-10 minutes going over the doll in detail, then they recap them at the end and show you a quick clip of the dolls. So, that’s three times the dolls get shown. The last time, though, they kept showing the same fucking dolls over and over again. All through that long 4-hour doll show, they didn’t show more than 25 dolls. The same old, same old. They’d go over the same doll five different times for ten minutes. It was a complete waste of time and with all the dolls they showed that I’ve seen several times before, no Glenora. They had a 42” doll for $450 and another 36” one for $200. The 42” sucked and the 36” one was so-so.

Anyway, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get to the doll store on Friday or my appointment with Mel and Char on Monday, cuz I’m in the same boat I was in before today’s appointments got canceled. My schedule’s too far ahead to push it back further enabling me to be up at 10:00 a week from now (I got up at 7:30 AM today), and it’s too far behind to push it forward so I’m getting up around midnight. I may not make it to either place, but I’m certainly gonna focus on getting my teeth taken care of. Not getting a doll. If the doll has to wait in order to make my appointment, it has to wait. Or maybe I can get the doll after I see Mel and Char. We’ll see.

Paula left me a message early Sunday morning. I try to avoid her on weekends. Not just cuz I don’t usually do phone chats on the weekend, but cuz I usually try to avoid her when the kid’s there. I wait till he’s in school, cuz it’s so annoying to have her be constantly yelling at the kid while we talk. I’ll call her and we’ll be talking, then she’ll put me on hold for a couple of minutes to go scream at it. That’s what you get for having kids, Paula! No peace. No freedom. No life. Meanwhile, we don’t need to pay for her to scream at the kid. Long-distance calls cost money. Even when it’s her calling and paying, it still really irritates me. When you’re talking on the phone, you should be talking to that person. Not who’s in the room with you.

Another reason to add to my list of reasons not to get in vitro, or whatever it’s called, is cuz of the weight I’ve lost. I worked too long and hard on that to throw it away. I’m confused now, though, as to exactly what in vitro is. I thought Linda said it was basically artificial insemination where they inject sperm into her, but Tom says it’s where they insert a fertilized egg in there. What Tom said would make sense, cuz if all Linda needed was sperm injected into her, couldn’t her husband do that at home? She never mentioned him having a problem. Well, even though Tom thinks I’ll return to a fertility doctor someday, I can’t see it. I love life too much to throw it away. I mean, my life’s not perfect. I still have problems just like anyone else, but you know what I mean. I need all the stability, peace, and freedom I can get. I couldn’t handle anything drastically different than what I’ve got now. I also value my time with my husband. I need to be with him. I don’t care to share him with his mother, his sister, a kid, or anyone else.

True to my vision, I woke up yesterday at 107 pounds! What was the catch for that? I was stuck yesterday. Therefore, I woke up at 109 today. Since I’m obviously gonna be stuck 2-3 times a week, losing more weight is gonna be a toughie! If only I could be 95-100 pounds, cuz it’s a hell of a lot easier to maintain your weight than it is to lose it. Also, I could afford to slack off my diet a couple of days a week, too. Will I ever get down to 100? I don’t know. I mean, it sure as hell didn’t seem likely at 125 pounds compared to now, but only time will tell. I don’t see it right now, so that means that it’s at least not in the near future if it’s gonna happen at all. Maybe in June or July, I’ll be 100 pounds.

It still seems, though, that no matter how much weight I lose, it still looks like I have a double chin when I have my head tilted downward. And I’m still fat in the lower cheeks where my jaws are. Jowls, I think they call it. I know a part of it is that it’s sagging with age, although my tits and ass miraculously haven’t started sagging yet, but still, I hate it! First I had to contend with a fat gut and fat thighs with craters on the backs of them, and now I’ve got a fat face and neck to add to the picture with craters everywhere! My hips aren’t exactly as narrow as they used to be either, and I’m still thick-waisted.

We didn’t screw this weekend. Now I don’t know if Tom didn’t screw me cuz he truly chickened out for fear of me being all irritated down there, or if he did it to punish me for needing a break from sex. But it’s not a punishment to me. I don’t want sex with him. I still don’t think sex and relationships are a good mix, and I just don’t desire him sexually. I love him to death, I want to spend all the time in the world with him, I want to cuddle with him, chat with him, and do things with him, but I just don’t feel right about screwing with him. It’s almost like we’re too close for that. I know it sounds funny since it’s usually those who aren’t getting along that don’t want to screw, but you know me. If it’s different sexually, it’s me. Or the one I’m having sex with. Well, I guess I should just be thankful that the relationship part of it is as good as it is and that I don’t want to have sex with others other than in my mind, and that he loves, understands, and accepts me as I am. He’s so patient and supportive. I swear no other man in the world would be like this in bed and take this attitude towards the lack of sex and the lack of desire on my part. I never heard of a guy like him! So, what used to frustrate, depress, and even anger me, is now something I consider myself to be very blessed by.

He made the comment that he was trying to think of ways to “ease us back into sex” after not having it so long when we were cuddled in bed, and then I told him if he was gonna chicken out and not be able to get into it, that was OK too. Then he pointed out his dick, which was rock hard the whole time, and said, “This doesn’t get hard unless it’s excited?”

Then I couldn’t resist responding with, “And it doesn’t squirt when it’s scared.” I couldn't resist that crack, true or not!

Anyway, Tom suggested we ease back into it (for the millionth time) by him just going in on the side during the week when he’s tired. That’s fine, and my saying he can cum or not cum still stands, but I can’t take this on-and-off sex shit with him! We have to screw once a week, regardless of my lack of desire. Period. I can’t keep dealing with the irritation I get when we “ease back into it.” From here on out - we either do it consistently or we don’t do it at all. That’s the only way it can be for me cuz of the irritation, or else I’d love to take breaks from sex due to my lack of desire. I’m even losing the desire for the vibrators. It used to be that I’d cum a few times a day in no time at all, but not anymore. Lately, it’s half as often, and seems to take me forever to cum. Sometimes I just can’t cum. I think that’s the main problem; is that it’s gotten to be so hard for me to cum. It just doesn’t happen as easily as it used to. It takes so long. I think that may also be why I don’t want to try to do myself with him on the side. Because by the time I came, if I came, he’d be dog tired. That’d be just fine with him, and even though I know he’d be fine never having sex with me again and that he could take care of himself forever, even though he’d say differently, I still would feel guilty and like I was depriving him. My attitude towards the next time we screw is to do it out of a sense of duty, so to speak. Not cuz I’ve just got to get laid.

Fucking kids! Why did I ever want one of those loud, obnoxious, destructive little monsters in my house? I’m sick of these kids parading around in our yard after they get off the school bus. We’re on the corner, so that makes it easier to do, but what is it with kids playing on other people’s property? There were about five of them and they were picking up some old roofing bits and one boy was chasing another up the driveway with it and I don’t need them throwing shit at the house. So as soon as I opened the door and said, “Please don’t come in our yard,” they all scurried off, but one. One was looking for something in between our driveway and W. Weldon within a patch of weeds, acting as if he couldn’t hear or see me. And this isn’t the only busload I have to deal with. They drop off kids at 2:05, 3:05, and 3:35. What I don’t get, though, is why the kids on all these buses look the same age. I thought the younger ones got out of school earlier. Most of the time they scurry right away, but sometimes I just never know what they’re gonna do. Of course, asking them not to come into our yard may’ve been a dumb mistake.

Later…

I figured out something about the freeloaders. I don’t know what took me so long to put two and two together, but the cock lives next door. I was wondering why he’d give up his gray car and why I wouldn’t see the cranberry car on weekends. I think he ditched his gray car to hide the fact that he’s living here and that the dude in the cranberry car comes to take him to and from work (I saw him get dropped off at about 4:00). Meanwhile, the cranberry car doesn’t come around on weekends cuz he’s here, and cuz that car only needs to come around to take him to work. If the cock was roommates with the dude driving the cranberry car as I had thought, then he’d be bringing the cock here on weekends, which I haven’t seen him doing. That must explain his getting dropped off last Friday and another time I saw him get dropped off in the afternoon. I knew some male blackie that was around 6’ lived there. It may not be the cock, though. These things all look the same and isn’t the cock bald? Well, this thing I saw today had a little wool fuzz on its head. Maybe it is the cock and it’s growing its hair out. It wore glasses. It looked too old to be a teenager. Well, if he lives here - fine. I won’t contact the city. But that’s only as long as he has no car. He’s not to live here with a car and therefore a stereo to torment me with. It’s not the fraud I care about. That bitch can have ten people over there who aren’t supposed to be there. It’s the constant music and door slamming I refuse to ever put up with again. If he had played his music at a reasonable volume in the first place, not come out several times a day to deliberately slam doors on me, and not put a barking dog just outside our walls as another way to piss me off, then he and that dog could’ve been here all along and there’d never have been any problems.

Speaking of barking, I heard not one bark all day in the living room from anywhere across the street. Except for the squealing kiddies, it was a peaceful day.

I tried Tammy’s again, but Lisa answered saying Tammy was at some business meeting with Mark. Lisa and I had a good talk and it was nice to touch base with her.

She said she did a solo in January.

I got a kick out of how she said the kids were all laughing at her when she got on the bus with frozen hair. She had just come out of the shower and her wet hair froze in the bitter cold. I remember that shit! Yuck!

She has to smoke outside and says she’s got to quit smoking cuz of the cold, but I know she won’t quit till she’s around my age. Maybe even older.

She claims she hasn’t talked to Larry since November and that he’s probably pissed at her for not calling, but I think she’s been calling regularly, even though she always makes it sound like she’s done with him. It’s her life. If she wants to associate with people like that, that’s her choice.

She’s a typical teenager, but more so, it’s amazing how much she’s just like I was when I was her age. The cigarettes, the pot, the cutting, the eating disorder. I was anorexic, but in her case, she’s bulimic. She says she’s not puking up her food, but nowadays, I’ve learned that sadly enough, I can’t always trust what she tells me. I myself tried what she’s done, but puking’s just so gross that I could never get myself to do it. She said she felt that way at first, but with her sick fuck of a father on her case, she’s been really desperate to lose weight. Yeah, I know how it is. Dureen picked on me about my weight too, and I ended up how I did cuz of it.

See, this is why I have to make a clean break when we move from everyone I was ever related to in the state of Florida, Massachusetts and Connecticut. When I hear her tell me how Bill taunts her about her weight and all the other stuff I hear from her and Tammy, it burns me up inside! It’s frustrating when you want to kill someone that’s on the other side of the country! It not only sends me boiling with anger, but it brings back a whole flood of shitty memories from my past and I can only fully move on by letting go of these people and associating with only positive, happy forces out here if I can help it. If that’s being as emotionally weak and as non-accepting as Dureen, then so be it, but that’s my problem. A person’s gotta do what a person’s gotta do.

Now I’ll get into Tammy’s mail. I’m also sending Paula and Andy my latest computer work, too! They’re gonna love it. It’s totally different than anything I’ve ever sent them. Tom showed me how to superimpose pictures to make them look really out of this world. It’s easy, but it’s hard. The steps are simple enough, but it is a bit time-consuming.

I made it look like Shiny was standing on top of me while I was floating in the pool in one picture. How I did it was I traced Shiny from a picture of him getting a drink indoors, then copied and pasted him into the picture of me floating. Then I sized and positioned him to where I felt it looked best. I also took a picture of Tammy’s kids sitting on their couch and put an enlarged picture of Ratsy sitting on Sarah’s lap. As Tom said, she had the perfect expression for that too, cuz it was like, “Great! He gets to sit on my lap!”

I took one of Andy singing on stage where he had his arm sort of out by his face. It was about a foot away from his face. I made it look like he was holding a very large mouse by the tail. In another one, I made it look like a mouse was crawling up his arm.

I cut out my legs in a picture of me doing the perfect handstand in the pool and put them behind Tammy on her kitchen counter. I put Tom lying in her snow-filled yard.

It’s so much fun and I did so many wild things. I put my hair on Lisa and made it even longer. I blew up a different shot of Ratsy and put it on the table with Becky and Sarah. I put Tom’s face where Sarah’s face was in a picture of the three of them. I put my face in their dog’s and in Lisa’s hands.

Later…

I may be adamantly against a child, but I’m still a curious person. So I looked up meningitis on the web and couldn’t find anything linking that and infertility. Tom says this wouldn’t surprise him cuz this happened before his testicles were even fully formed. My gut feeling also says he’s fine. It’s either a 50/50 case that there’s nothing wrong with either of us or that there’s something wrong with me that no one discovered. Well, we’ll never know which was the case. Having the HSG done, however excruciating it was, helped dull 90% of my curiosity, so that’s good.

I discovered another song on Linda’s latest album called When We Ran that I like, but only the chorus. Its verses are boring and too long. The song’s called When We Ran, even though the album’s called We Ran.

Is AOL going back to their old shit? After five attempts to get online, I said fuck it.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1999 Miss Bitch left her mistake alone again for a few minutes this morning. Bill was apparently late. I noticed I didn’t hear him pull in while I was in the bedroom having my coffee. I heard a honk at 6:40 and saw the light blue car on the street and the bitch walking away from it. Then she came back and stood at the driver’s door talking, but I had to put my spying on hold to go live my life and start my shower. Shortly after, I heard a door that sounded like it was in the driveway, so I ran and peeked one more time and saw that the bitch had gone and that Bill was here. The bitch obviously just couldn’t wait till Bill got here, I guess, cuz she left about ten minutes before he got here.

Woke up at 109 and am stuck today. Since I’m gonna be going back to being stuck every other day, I must really watch my calorie intake, but I wonder if it’s cuz I’ve slacked off my exercising again? Better start that up again, even if most of the exercises don’t do me any good. The only way to have a flat belly is to do crunches for hours every day. Just 50 or so of those a day won’t cut it, cuz it’s so hard to isolate stomach muscles compared to arms and legs.

Paula called at 7:30 with her new number and address. So I have her phone number, her apartment address, and her PO Box address. She said I could just send mail to her apt. She claims she’s gonna stay where she is for a while and that she’s sick of moving around. She’s in a 3-family house. She’s got a 4-room apartment on the middle floor.

She said she beat up her little sister when she was in Florida, has the hots for several different guys, and that it’s freezing there and they’re expecting snow.

Later…

I didn’t hear the freeloader come to get the animal at the usual time of just after 8:00. I could’ve been listening to music or in the shower, so I can’t say for sure whether or not they came.

For the last week or so, my hair has been much softer than usual. Why this suddenly happened, beats me. Perhaps it’s cuz I’ve been laying off straightening it. It still looks sort of fried and very uneven, but it feels so much better.

Later…

It’s coming up on 2:00 yet he’s not home yet. Damn that mother of his! I know he doesn’t have to work tonight, but still, he’s had to have been up for about 16 hours. He doesn’t need this. Now I wonder if we’ll be able to do what we had planned today, thanks to his fucking mother.

I told him that I had mixed emotions about her. It’s like I love her and I hate her. She was a wonderful mother to Tom and she’s given to us, but she’s also a user who runs my husband ragged and who sucks up a lot of our time. Tom said it’s OK to have mixed emotions.

We were gonna pour some shit down the tub drain to unclog it, then Tom was gonna put a regular handle back on the toilet. I’ve had it with this toilet shit. I told him about the leak, after all, and how I was sick of having to hold the fucking button in for 20 seconds so it’d flush all the way. He said I should’ve spoken up sooner, cuz he’s been sick of the push-button for quite a while. I just didn’t want to give God, or whoever, the reaction it wanted. I hate to give in to my hexes by either getting emotional or letting them cause me to take action over it. I’d tell him to just get a whole new toilet, but that’d just get hexed, too.

Tom told me he’d support me with whatever I chose to do, so I told him I was gonna take his word for it, and here’s the scoop: I remain sure that I want to try doll making and not have a child. However, should I ever find myself wanting a kid again, I’m gonna just get it done by a doctor. No going through another handful of years trying to do it ourselves. If we could do it ourselves, we’d have done it already, and I’m big enough to say so and not deny that. If the doctor wants to do any more testing fine, but my point is that if I ever want one, unless it’s medically impossible, I’m just gonna tell her about our sex lives and why we can’t conceive on our own, therefore just take a damn egg, fertilize it with his sperm, and shove it up in me. Although painful, it’d be a done deal that way without having to go through more years of trying to make time and trying to hit it right and trying to get off and trying this and trying that and driving ourselves crazy with frustration and taking the fun out of it, provided it’s medically possible and that God doesn’t kill it along the way. I told Tom I hope he’ll keep his word but I highly doubt I’ll return to having a child. However, if he’s got a problem with the possibility of my doing this in the future, however slim, I need to know. After being together as long as we have, I think it’s the only way. Same thing happened to Linda. All the screwing in the world, for way more years than we’ve screwed, didn’t impregnate her. Only in vitro did. Initially, they told her she had one clogged tube that they unblocked, but that other than that, everything was normal with her. I guess some people just aren’t meant to do things the typical way. Just like with how I learn differently (as Tom and I were discussing, I learn better on my own, not in groups). So then it’d only make sense and it wouldn’t surprise me if I’d have to conceive differently, cuz of how many things I do differently as it is. Like I said, I can’t “see” this happening, but if I should one day tell him I want in vitro, he won’t be taken by surprise.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1999 The mice love the box of colorful paper strips they got. I can hear one of them rustling around inside the box. They chewed an opening just big enough to let them inside.

Porky’s soooo funny! Just like with cats, rodents sometimes like to misbehave so they’ll get attention. They tend to do things they know they’re not supposed to do right in front of you so you’ll see it, and then they get attention. I was sitting at the table when I saw Porky on his way up to where he can get out and walk around on his roof, and I sternly called out his name. Instant change of directions! He went sideways onto a shelf.

The doll show has weird hours. Sometimes they’re on for two hours, sometimes for three. Tonight they’ll be on for one hour and on Friday they’ll be on for four.

I’ve developed a bit of a thing for Christine McVie, one of the Fleetwood Mac members. Why, I don’t know, since she’s a blond, but there’s just something about her. She looks hot on one of the CD covers I just got, so I scanned her picture to add to my wallpaper and screen saver collection.

Later…

The phone just rang and it was Tisha apologizing for calling so early. She needed to cancel my cleaning appointment on Monday, but she had a 1:45 today where I could take care of both the cleaning and the ortho. I told her I couldn’t make it today, so could I do both the following Monday, March 1st? No problem. Great! That really takes the pressure off me cuz holding my schedule back for four more days would’ve been hard.

Will our boys in the dark red car be coming in about 45 minutes to get the mistake? We’ll see.

I’m now reading Prescription: Murder about a well-known Texas surgeon who killed his first wife and tried to kill his second wife. Then I guess he disappears.

Later…

Our boys have shown up again, but they’ve changed cars. They’re in a hideously ugly dark green car. I think the bald cock was the driver this time around. He was with a guy about his size who was wearing a blue and red cap. This car amazingly didn’t have its front seat and windshield windows tinted. Just the backseat, like they have something to hide back there. I could see into the front of the car. There was a red pine tree with white on it dangling from the front mirror. One of those air freshener things. The seats were of tan vinyl. Or beige, light brown, crème, whatever you want to call it. Why is Bill staying here all day if the kid’s not gonna be here? Bill must really hate where he lives. Or maybe they’ve been bringing the kid back shortly after they’ve taken it and I just haven’t noticed.

Later…

Tom’s home now and he just went to bed.

Right after he got home, he whacked down the weeds that were growing out by the pool with the weed-whacker. It’s a good thing he had that thing, cuz to pull them by hand would take forever.

Tomorrow he’s taking his ma to two appointments to see if they can find out what the scoop is on her heart. He’s saying that she’ll be gone when we move. God, I hope so! But I just don’t sense this. Only time will tell, though.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1999 I ended up having to see Dr. Brown yesterday, believe it or not. I knew this infection just wasn’t gonna go away on its own and that this time around, no amount of cranberry juice would cut it. So I called the office at 9:30 and was told there was a 10:45 available, which Tom took me to. I first prayed to God 2-3 times to take the pain and infection away, but as usual, I was ignored. I was shocked to be able to get in the same day I called.

When I first got there, I was led straight to the bathroom to pee in a cup, but I couldn’t. I was so frustrated! Then I was led to an exam room where the nurse gave me three cups of water. Shortly after, the doc came in and she asked me about my symptoms and if I’ve had a UT infection before. She gave me a prescription for Bactrim, an antibiotic I’ve had before. This time, though, I only need to take it twice daily for five days. Not seven to ten days. I already feel much better.

So we went to lunch at Denny’s which was nice. I had a T-bone with eggs, and he had a ham and cheese omelet. After this, I was finally ready to pee. I took my purse into the bathroom, pulled out the cup, and did my thing. After making sure the cap was screwed on very tightly, it was back to the Dr. to drop it off. Next Monday, on our way to Melanie’s, which is very close by, I have to drop off another urine sample so they can make sure the infection really did go away. I’m sure it already has for the most part. But they have to be sure, cuz every now and then you get an infection that’s stubborn and that just won’t die.

I wonder, though, what with how my schedule is now if I’m even gonna make it to my appointment next Monday.

After dropping the pee off, we went to Walgreens to have the prescription filled, which took barely ten minutes. While we were waiting, we browsed the store and I picked out a couple of puzzles. One of flowers, one of balloons. They had some Barbies dressed in gorgeous outfits!

Got a message from Andy telling me of all the cards and money he got from different people for his birthday. I also had to tape a message for him. He said he used the money on some clothes he needed. I was surprised. I thought he’d spend it on phone cards, food, or cigarettes (he gets his pot for free since he’s dealing it).

Yesterday and today I sent blank messages to chickenmax and both went through. Today, though, I remembered to unsend the message. My first guess is that it’s not them. My second guess is that it was them, but they didn’t feel like changing screen names a third time. Especially since all they got was a blank message and no “fuck you” messages.

We were originally gonna screw around yesterday, but thanks to this infection, we couldn’t. Like I said, something doesn’t want us getting together very often on weekdays. That’s OK, cuz I wasn’t horny. Also, just like a person who knows a gun is unloaded but still shouldn’t risk holding it to their head, a person who doesn’t want kids and is mid-cycle shouldn’t risk screwing, even if she knows her man won’t cum and a kid is not meant to be. That’s one way of looking at it. The other is that fate is fate no matter what we do. We can be cautious, but we can’t change our destinies.

Later…

Bill’s here now, but will the bitch be hauled away in the blue car? We’ll see.

In two weeks, I’ll be free to pick out a doll, but I don’t know where I’ll pick it from. Originally, I was gonna wait till we moved to check out the dolls in a toy store, but I think I’m gonna settle my curiosity, see what’s there, then decide whether or not to spend that $60 I have in the toy store or on the Home Shopping channel.

I’m going to try to burn a CD, which I doubt will work.

Later…

The CD didn’t work. I should’ve known better and not even bothered with the thing.

Same weird freeloader scenario with a slightly different twist to it. The dark red car with the Islamic-capped cock and his crony came and got the mistake. Behind the cock’s seat, was a huge cardboard box. Hmm… wonder what hot goods they got in there? Anyway, the different twist is that Bill’s still here.

The nurse weighed me at 116 pounds. Without clothes and shoes on, I’m sure I’d have been 114, but once again, my weight’s going up and I’m having days where I’m stuck. As long as I have days where I’m stuck, it’s gonna be awfully hard to keep myself under 110 without starving or taking water pills.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1999 So much for Natchaug's great advice. This time around, the pain goes away, then comes back. I hope I don't have a UT infection. Well, for now, I'll just keep drinking cranberry juice.

Got through the holiday weekend without a hitch. All I saw was an ugly dark red car that came in for just a few minutes at 9 AM. There was a male driver and a fat passenger. The guy (if it was a guy) was huge and I don't think I've ever seen this person before. Then at 1:00, Bill took the bitch out, and that's all I saw/heard.

Tom cleaned my stereo yesterday. It was dusty.

Later…

I can't believe it didn't rain earlier. The sky was nothing but a mass of clouds, but then suddenly, it was bright and sunny.

We've got a different routine going on next door today. I don't know who it was I heard at 6:20 this morning. I assumed it was Bill. But Bill wasn't there at 8:00 when I looked out and saw two guys in that dark red car come get the kid. I think this "dark red" car is the same one that I call "cranberry" colored. There was a male driver and the cock in the passenger seat. When I looked out, the cock was just unloading the bundle of waste into the backseat, then he got in the front passenger seat, and off they went. What? Did the cock trade in driving that gray car to be hauled around in this thing?

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1999 At 12:30, a half-hour after I got up, I left Andy a message wishing him a happy birthday and told him to call me at 1:30 after I’d had time to wake up, eat, and wash up if he wanted to talk. I figured it’d be close to his bedtime and that he’d only be up till 2:00-3:00, but I was wrong. He left me a message at 1:05 while I was brushing my teeth, saying he was gonna do some audiotaping and would call me back at 3:30-4:00. Also, he’s been staying up till 6:00-7:30 in the morning lately. Oh, God! This means that if he calls, and I know damn well he will, I’ll be stuck on the phone with him for hours! Well, it’s his birthday, so it won’t kill me to be his slave for a day.

The freeloaders were quiet. I kind of went to bed around their prime time, so that could be part of why they seemed quiet.

We went to Walgreens yesterday morning. I was amazed that it wasn’t packed. The original plan was to get me some cranberry juice and some puzzles, and then go to Staples to see if he could find himself a computer-related treat (he wrote a program that allows him to scan his picks for horse races on his little laptop, and has been back at the computer more and at the TV less).

Anyway, I needed the cranberry juice for that pain I sometimes get on my lower, right side right around mid-cycle time. I guess it’s just a coincidence that I get it at that time cuz the pain’s too high to be my ovaries or anything like that. Nonetheless, I got the juice and it helped kill the pain. Thank God for that power-playing snob at Natchaug who told me about this little trick. That’s probably the one and only good thing I got out of Natchaug, even if Natchaug itself was part of the “plan” to get me out here.

They didn’t have any good puzzles, but they did have some cute Barbie outfits. Got three outfits for $6. A pink dress, a purple skirt with a colorful top, and a blue top with floral shorts. This came with two pairs of shoes, too. A pink pair and a purple pair.

I got myself a few pairs of booties (pink, blue, and purple) which are good for roaming around the house.

It turned out that Staples wasn’t open yet, so Tom will have to go there some other time.

Later…

My luck was with me and Andy got tired on me so he didn’t keep me on the phone forever.

He says he’s gonna stick with part-time at Red Lobster and then supplement his income with dealing, but that he doesn’t want to deal full-time. He claims that at the end of the year, he’ll get his act together and get a full-time job with benefits and keep it. He says he’s never been this lazy before and that all he can do is think about sex. He can’t get it off his mind. He’s so horny all the time.

Laura’s moved back in and he said that even though they fight constantly, he appreciates the extra money. I’d rather struggle like hell than fight like they do.

He and Michelle went bar-hopping. They went to tit bars, which Michelle’s into, and gay bars. Andy said some of the customers at the tit joint were gorgeous and he wanted them sooo bad. He and Michelle are still having the same old shit luck. Michelle can’t get anyone she really wants and Andy hit on five guys only to be rejected by each and every one of them. Maybe God’s trying to tell Michelle something. Maybe she’s not meant to be with a woman. Maybe she’s meant to be with a guy later on in life. I doubt God’s trying to tell Andy he’s meant to be with a woman, though. I think he’s just not meant to be with anyone.

He’s pissed at Barbara Nicks for lying to him and for being rude. It started with her agreeing to meet with him when he brought over a cassette that she asked for. Then she blew him off and made excuses not to meet with him inside or outside the house. So he finally agreed he’d just drop the damn tape off and leave it in her truck. Meanwhile, she said she’d leave him an autographed tour book and a T-shirt. For whatever reason, only the tour book was there. So he put the tape in the truck and noticed the lights to the red jag were on, so he knocked on the back door. He said he was sort of hoping she wouldn’t answer since he reeked of pot. She didn’t answer, although he could hear that she was up and about. She was obviously ignoring the door, though.

When he got home, he called to let her know the lights to that car were on, which she said she knew nothing about. Then she rudely said she was too busy to take the time to listen to tapes. What a snob! After he took the time to make it for her? I mean, I know he has all the free time in the world, but still, that was a rude, ungrateful thing to say and she asked for this tape, she’s not a true friend, and if he had any self-respect, he wouldn’t bother with her. However, Andy has very little respect. He even said he’ll keep calling her, but less often. His definition of less often is still often enough by most people’s standards.

Yesterday, Tom showed me the pictures he took at the racetrack. Most of them came out great. He’s using a great picture of two horses for his wallpaper.

Tom went to bed shortly after I got up, and he asked me if I wanted him to tell me what he left me a message about, or should I just get the message? So I told him he could tell me, and he said he had good news and bad news. I knew the good news could be anything, but when he mentioned bad news, I was like - what’s your mom in the hospital for now? That wasn’t it, though. He said the good news was that he saw Patch downstairs. Yeah, and I saw Big Cocoa and Bandit down there, too, so I guess the aquariums will be used again, after all. The bad news is that Big Cocoa has the same tumor on her side that Spot did, so she won’t have much longer to live. Rodents are notorious for tumors. That makes two pigs and two mice I’ve had with tumors. From what I looked back on, I noticed Spot’s tumor on 11/17 and she was dead by 12/1, so big Cocoa can’t have even a month to go, poor thing.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1999 I’m taping a 3-hour doll show now to see if they show Glenora again so I can at least get her code number which I was stupid enough to tape over. I won’t be able to pick out a doll for a few weeks, though, cuz Tom went over the limit on the credit card.

Two things went as I predicted. One was that Tom won a small amount of money at the racetrack yesterday ($16) like I saw, and two, the freeloaders were quiet. It’s today or Monday that they may make a ruckus.

Woke up at 112 pounds. Tom says it cuz I was stuck (I’m now unstuck). Even so, I took a water pill so I don’t have to starve for two weeks to get back under 110.

Yesterday, Tom not only surprised me by suddenly leading me to the bed for fun but also with how wonderful a job he did when he went down on me. I even got off. For your average woman, it’s a million times easier to get off when you go down on her than when you screw her. Screwing can’t hit the clit just right and in the right kind of way. At first he told me I didn’t have to get off since that’s not what this was all about, but I did. He did such a good job. Better than he’d usually do.

Once again, though, I don’t like the lying. That’s the only thing I have a problem with. He claimed, upon us getting into bed, that he didn’t know what would happen. You mean to tell me he just “happened” to go down on me after not doing so for ages? I don’t think so. I know he planned to go down on me, which was great. I needed the change. All we’ve been doing is screwing. But must he lie about it?

God really does find all kinds of ways to ensure our destinies. Even if it means using others to help. What I mean by this is that since we’re starting all over, he’s gonna use this as an excuse to not cum for years. Well, I hope he’s happy and doesn’t mind sacrificing cumming with his wife.

So, since we’ve gone back to the beginning, I can enjoy being selfish by having the sex be just for me, and not having to wash cum-stained sheets. If he’s as serious as he has been about going back in time and reenacting the sex we had in the beginning, then we’ll be having 1-sided sex for sure and he won’t cum till around the middle of 2001. Oh, how good it feels to have sex like this now! In the beginning, when we had our 1-sided sex where he didn’t cum, it was miserable for me. I hated it and I hated the infrequency of it, too. But now, if we switched to having sex more than once a week and during weekdays too (he claims he doesn’t know when or how often we’ll have sex), I’d be bored silly with it like never before.

I typed him up a little Valentine’s note and now I’ll go get my Evie messages.

Later…

Wow. No Evie messages. I wonder if I sent Dureen and Art a blank message, though. I thought it’d be funny if they found that I found them yet again, and took a moment to think of their most loved things, besides themselves. I came up with their bird and dog and so I typed in maxchicken. This produced no results, so then I tried chickenmax and the thing went through. I’ll know if it’s them in a day or two if the name changes again. If I send a message to chickenmax in a couple of days and get a message saying there’s no such user - it was them. If it’s them since their names didn’t work, their animals didn’t work, that should mean the flags would be next. Chickenmax, though, does seem like a name people may use. I mean, it doesn’t sound too original, so if I had to guess, I’d say it wasn’t them. Even though they do have a bird named Chicken and a dog named Max, Doe66 was more obvious than chickenmax.

Along with going to the track, Tom stopped and got me ink cartridges and some really cool treats for the mice that Mary gets for her hamsters. It’s colorful, crinkly strips of paper in a thin, cardboard box that they chew their way into. It’s got pink, blue, and yellow paper. He got one box that’s a couple of inches wide that I put in the small aquarium (I set up the aquariums again) and a box that’s about six inches wide that I put in the big aquarium.

I found a neat way to set up tubes in the rat’s cage. It’s hard to connect the tubes to the shelves once the shelves are inside the cage, but you can’t really do it before putting the shelves inside cuz they won’t fit through the doors. So I used the chains that hook the hammock on that they never used and it’s really cool. I think they like it. The chains hold the tubes in place, so I created a little ramp-like thing. The plastic rings that go on these tubes have holes in them for the chains.

I still have a strong vibe saying we’ll move in June, or very close to June, but what if the house takes close to a year to sell? God, I hope not! Tom says that houses out here are commonly selling in just 30 days lately. Well, I hope it stays that way and that it sells fast enough for us. I’ve seen houses take way more than 1-2 months to sell out here.

Thank God the freeloaders don’t know we’re moving soon enough, cuz if they did, they’d probably figure it was close enough that I wouldn’t complain to the city if they went back to their old shit. They would’ve thought wrong.

Later…

I feel like it’s Monday morning. A regular Monday morning, that is. God, I wish that were true.

Anyway, I watched the doll show and no Glenora. They had a couple of OK dolls, though. I wrote the code number down for one of them just in case. She’s a 24” doll named Giselle and she’s $50. The only thing I didn’t like about her was the frilly thing she had on her head. It was some kind of hat that might have had feathers. I wonder if I’ll be able to get the damn thing off her head if I get her, what with the way they glue/weave hats on. I don’t know why, but it seems that doll makers are obsessed with putting things on the doll’s heads. You almost never see a doll with nothing on her head. She was a ballerina-type doll and although her outfit was gorgeous, once again, it was blue. Blue seems to be the number one color for doll clothing. They had a lot of William Tung dolls (the guy who made Glenora), but most of his dolls were hideous. They had a 36” doll for just $119! She was pitiful, though. Short hair, shitty outfit.

For variety’s sake, I put Bailey in the floral dress with the purple trim that one of my teddy bears wears. It doesn’t exactly go with her blue hair bows, but I don’t want to take them out in case I can’t get them back in too easily. I cannot believe how realistically and well she’s sculpted! Even her knees look real. I have the front part of her dress sort of bunched on her lap so you can see one of her knees. I brushed out her hair and was amazed to find how easy it was. Just like with Anne. Wish mine were that easy to brush out! When I got Bailey undressed, what I saw was a little scary. The breastplate that the head sits on wasn’t attached to the cloth body very well. It didn’t seem to be, anyway. It was only attached with a few thin strips of cloth. Well, it hasn’t fallen off yet and if it does, it looks like it could be reattached easily enough provided that the head and breastplate don’t smash to pieces first.

I wonder just how close to the sex we had in the first couple of years Tom’s planning on following. If he’s gonna do exactly what we did the first couple of years, we’re gonna have sex for me and get me off. He’ll go down on me, but he won’t cum or go on top. We’ll do only the side position and instead of going on top after banging away on the side for a while, he’ll stop either when I cum or when he feels like he’s been hard long enough. Meanwhile, he’ll never go on top. As I told him, he’s the boss in bed. Always has been, always will be. So it’s up to him what we do, but if I have to wait two years, depending on how close to the past he wants to follow through with this thing, I’ll kind of miss his being on top.

The mice are acting really weird and I think there’s a damn good chance that they’ll never use the aquariums again. They’re ignoring everything I stored away for a week or so. They’ll only stay in the two Play City cages that they’ve always used. They did this when I took away and then put back another Play City cage that I haven’t used in ages. After I took it away for a while, then put it back, they wouldn’t have anything to do with it. But why? This is weird, huh? Well hopefully, the babies will use it once they can get around on their own.

Later…

As much as I rank on this house, there are a few good things about it. Take the little living room window, for example. I’ve always loved the square window that’s between the big window and the door with its thick translucent glass. It’s exactly one square foot and Barbie fits in it just nicely. I put her in there for now, since Bailey’s not holding her now.

I really pity the next people to live here. Not just cuz of the dogs and cuz they’ll have to deal with some ball games that are so close, they’ll think someone’s throwing a ball up against the house, but cuz the freeloaders will go back to their old shit for damn sure. I don’t know if the cock will move back in, but I’m sure they’ll return to blasting their music. And I’ll bet you the sick fucks will hope that the new people will complain, however reasonable the complaint and politely made it may be, just so they can start the whole spiel all over again and knowingly and intentionally harass and blast that music till it pisses the people off. That’d be a dumb thing to do, though. Unless the people just don’t mind having their walls thumped with bass, or do it themselves too, what if the new people are even less tolerant than me? What if they do beat the snot out of her and her cronies like I wanted to and almost did numerous times? What if they complain to the city and end up getting evicted since that’d make the third complaint that I know of?

Oh, great! Bandit’s down in one of the aquariums. Maybe they will use it again, after all.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1999 I have a feeling that this 3-day weekend won’t be completely peaceful. They gave me two quiet weekends in a row, so I think that in their minds, it’ll be time to make up for that peace. Remember I know just how these fuckaroos operate. You don’t even have to be good with people to know how they operate, cuz they go about it in such an obvious way. Right now, I sense that Sunday or Monday could call for some shit, and God knows I’ll be up to receive it, too.

And who knows what the renters and our local bangers may do, although lately, it’s been great as far as stereos go in general. I’m also stunned to have not heard/seen more of the collie kids lately either out back, on the street, or next door, but like I said, I think they got into a fight and that explains why the girl that’s about ten years old, that used to use their hoop, hasn’t used it.

Later…

I did something I haven’t done since gaining and losing weight. My metabolism must be soaring. Well usually, if I take a day to pig out, I’m a pound heavier the next day and I don’t lose that pound till after I’ve stopped eating. Well, I pigged out two days ago and woke up a pound heavier. Then yesterday, I ended up pigging out too, but woke up at midnight a pound less at 109! Maybe it’s cuz I slept for such a long time. You do lose weight in your sleep. Well, you should. I wasn’t at first. When my weight peaked at around 125 pounds, I’d wake up at exactly what I went to bed at. Anyway, here I am being compensated for waking up a pound lighter by being stuck. First day in weeks, even close to a month, that I’ve been stuck. Not even the last two times I took a water pill caused me to be stuck. I was gonna cheat, had I woken up at 110-111, by taking a water pill. Gets me back down to 108-109 a lot faster than doing it the old-fashioned way. Maybe I ought to go online. I noticed that being on the phone or being online seems to get those number twos rolling. I’d always have to take a dump right when I’d be in the middle of looking up something on the web.

Andy left a message saying that he got the letter and money I sent for his birthday.

Later…

Just like we’re taking a break from sex to try to have it be more special, new and exciting when we return to it (although I know better), I’m taking a break from picture screensavers to use some of the regular ones.

Tom got this really neat sponge that’s attached to a slim stick that you put soap into. It seeps into the sponge as you do dishes. It’s really cool, but I can’t hang it where the sponge is dangling down, cuz then the soap just seeps through and runs out. I have to lay it on its side.

I asked Tom if it would be OK for him to decide when it’s best to go back to sex (since it’s usually him who makes most of the decisions concerning sex) and he agreed, but I hope it’s gonna be a while yet. Just like mixing business with pleasure complicates things, so does mixing sex with relationships. My love for Tom just isn’t sexual, anyway. It’s emotional. And I don’t want the sex thrown into the picture to complicate things. On the other hand, there aren’t reasons why it could complicate things as much as there used to be. It used to be that it bothered me that he didn’t cum, especially cuz it used to be that I wanted a baby. It used to be that he’d play games and refuse to even go in there at times. But now that I’d prefer him not to cum, don’t want a child, prefer sex part-time on weekends, goes in there we go to screw, there shouldn’t be arguments over sex, since the sex itself has gotten to be mutual. In the past, though, it was pretty much on his terms only and I didn’t like his terms much back then. I just have no desire to have sex with him, plain and simple. I love him and want to be with him forever, but I love to talk with him, do things with him, etc. Not fuck with him. It isn’t the predictability of the sex that bores me, it’s the sex itself that bores me, and I’d really rather just take care of myself.

As I was telling Tom yesterday, I have some worries that eat at me at times, but don’t we all? It’s really weird and a bit frustrating, cuz when I’m miserable I spend my time wishing for better times, and when I’m happy I spend my time fearing I’ll be miserable again at any moment. I just hope and pray to God that I never find myself wanting a kid again. It’s not like I could do something about it if I did. Most couples can do something about it and can be helped if they’re having a problem. However, I’m a freak case cuz of Tom. This doesn’t mean, though, that if Tom were suddenly normal in bed this would change anything, cuz I’d still be a freak case, but then it’d be cuz of God.

I didn’t express this to Tom and I never would, but as much as I’m anxious to get Ma off to join Dad, and on with our lives (hopefully), I don’t look forward to being treated like shit. Maybe things will be different this time around and I sure do hope so, cuz he really treated me like shit when his dad died, and he really took his sorrow out on me. I understood. It’s not like he meant to do what he did deliberately, but he’d snap at me, lie, make ridiculous excuses for his behavior, and say I said/did things I didn’t say/do, etc.

Porky and Ratsy are playing now. The rats play like kittens and it’s so cute!

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1999 We didn’t thoroughly check out land since it’s kind of soon, but we got a general idea of the area and it’s beautiful.

We went to one of the casinos we’d been to before and had pretty much the luck I predicted, which wasn’t much. Tom did win $175 at one point, but he put most of it back. I both lost and broke even. I’ve got a really good accuracy rate when it comes to sensing out machines that I can hold my own on for a while, but not win big on. I’m sure that’s because neither of us is ever destined to win anything big. At one point, I had to decide whether or not to keep on gambling, or to stop at the $40 I’d just lost, but then Tom gave me $40 of his, so I still have $60 left. Guess this means I’ll be getting a doll again soon, but not too soon. I doubt I’ll be able to find Glenora again, and it may take a few shows to find a doll I want. Most of their dolls really do suck or are boring.

Anyway, we both had fun and I gave my diet a break to have two candy bars, a bag of Fritos, and a large order of fries at Jack-n-the-Box. Gained a pound for it too, so now I have to really cut back.

I came up with a wonderful piece of bullshit. You know, for the freeloader file? In this story, we are the blue car that comes to pick her up in the mornings. We got the same car, same color, and we were waiting for her early in the morning. It was still dark at the time, so she hopped right on in the car without even looking, assuming it was the usual car and driver that takes her to wherever she goes. Then I wrote about how she took a lisping tizzy fit similar to the one she took on me in real life, and then we dropped her off way out of her way in Tucson.

We’re gonna wait till it gets lighter earlier before we follow the bitch. Tom wants to wait down on 19th Ave. And follow from there. Less chance of getting detected, I guess, not that I really care. I don’t think he wants to or really ever intends to follow her to see where she goes, but you know Tom - just can’t say "no" too easily to things he doesn’t want to do. He just goes along with you and is like - yeah, yeah, whatever.

Seeing that they gave me two quiet weekends in a row, I have a feeling that this upcoming holiday weekend will change that pattern.

The renters had their white car towed away the other day, according to Tom. They’ve been great, too. I’ve only heard their music three times and it was nothing compared to what the freeloaders would give me. I also don’t hear their dog barking 24/7.

Andy did just what I knew he’d do. Damn! He really wants to be a loser. He really wants to stay in the same old rut he’s been in since 1988. He blew off that job. What a shame. It would’ve been good pay and good benefits, but hey, if he doesn’t give a shit and if he doesn’t want to work, no one can make him. But why doesn’t he just become a full-time dealer? If he has no problem with druggies and with dealing to those he knows, and if he doesn’t mind giving up pensions and benefits, which is obviously the case, why doesn’t he just deal his life away, so to speak? That’s all his life is anyway - pot, food, and phones. Mixed in with a little TV and music.

I decided that there is one song on Linda’s new album that I do like, after all. It’s called Heartbreak Kind.

After we came home at 7:30, we took off again at 9:00 and went to the pet store. I needed a heavy-weight bowl like Velvet’s got for the rats, and rat/mice food. So I got a bowl with silhouettes of rabbits and ferrets on it.

Then we went to check out what kind of Fancy mice they had in stock, wondering if they had none or just males, but guess what? They had two females that are probably pregnant, and I got them! Yes, Katie and Ashley are cuties. Katie has the most white I’ve ever seen on a Fancy mouse. Ashley looks a lot like Spot did. So now I have 8 mice and hopefully, I’ll have about 16 by March 4th, since they carry litters for 3 weeks at a time. Well, if they’re pregnant, they could be a week or more into their pregnancies, so 3 weeks would be the max. They were in with males, though, and they are old enough to conceive. They look to be about a month old. They’re no babies, but they aren’t quite full-grown, either. They could even be a little more than a month. They’re about Star’s size, my one and only mouse that didn’t quite make it to full-grown size. They’re sisters.

I didn’t take pictures of Katie yet, but I got a couple of cute ones of Ashley, which I’ll be sending Tammy and them guys.

Lastly, we went to the bookstore, and did I ever tell you about this pest that works there? Good, God! I can’t shop there anymore. Besides, it’s time to explore a new store anyway.

For all I know, she’s some lonely lesbian who thinks I’m just beautiful. If not, she’s obviously very lonely and very bored. That’s not much of a job she’s got, organizing books.

She’s shorter than me, with a plain/ugly face, boy-short hair, and totally typical of what I’d get pestering me. I mean, leave it to a pitiful thing like this to be all friendly and wanting to talk to me.

Anyway, the last several times I’d go into the store, she’d be bugging me by asking if she could find this or find that for me. Totally annoying! I couldn’t concentrate very well on finding good books with this thing hanging around me acting like she was all infatuated with me and dying for my attention.

I was a little firmer with her yesterday and let her know that if I needed something, I’d ask. Meanwhile, she was trying to get my sympathy by bitching about her flu and her stomach, but after a minute or two of giving her the silent treatment, she fucked off. Still, if I gave her my whole day, she’d sit and gab to me all fucking day long. If I must run into people who are like this periodically, can’t they look like Melanie and be a little more worth it? No! Of course not! Being both psychic and good with people, I have a feeling this poor lost, lonely soul has a touch of the old me in her, though. I picture her living alone and maybe even being on SSI. She’s forever single, not too many friends and if so, not ones you can count on and that even have half a brain, and she’s constantly hard up for bucks.

Later…

Jesus fucking Christ! I cannot believe how hexed I am when it comes to toilets! Not only do you have to hold the button in that flushes the damn thing for something like ten seconds, but now it’s leaking in back from the bass of the tank! Well, fuck this shit. I’m not even gonna give in to this hex. I’m just gonna turn the other cheek on it and hope the fucking thing will stay functional enough till we’re out of here and that it doesn’t affect the sale of the house. Tom has enough maintenance jobs in store for this house. He doesn’t need any more. It’s like, he fixes three things, then two more things break. He never really gets ahead. I just know too, that things that shouldn’t need to be fixed for 10-20 years will be breaking in the new house right away. What is it with me and toilets? Why am I hexed with toilets? Sex. Toilets. Free will. Where’s the connection? Is there any? Does any of this shit mean anything beyond just the basic fact that I’m hexed within these departments?

Later…

I forgot to mention that I got carded upon entering the casino. I was surprised, too.

Katie sure is a wheeler. She’s been wheeling for hours, it seems. She also has such a small amount of brown. Only her rump and one side of her face have brown fur.

The girl at the pet store, whom I’ve seen before, offered to take the male babies provided that her usual breeder doesn’t load her up first. It’d be just my luck that this breeder would give her a ton of mice the day before I went to bring them in, too. She said Siamese mice are really pretty. Never seen them. They’re supposed to be light brown with darker brown around the ears.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1999 I got a kick out of how I said (after I got Anne) that I wasn't gonna get Rapunzel cuz Anne blows Rapunzel away. No, she doesn't. Not even close. I don't know why I thought that. Maybe I did cuz I hadn't yet seen Rapunzel in person.

In the card file thing, where I have index cards of pet info, tel. numbers, etc., I created a doll card too, and put the dates in that I got each doll.

There are two doll shows that I know of on the Home Shopping channel. There's The Doll Outlet and Gallery Of Dolls. I check out the dolls on the Gallery of Dolls earlier. They had a lot of dolls I'd seen on other shows of both these doll shows, but no Glenora. The new ones I hadn't seen before either sucked or were just so-so.

At 3:00, I'll be getting Tom up. We should hit the casinos by 4:00. Then when we're done gambling, unless we lose real fast, the sun should be just coming up so we can check out the nearby land.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1999 Speaking of me playing detective, well, both Tom and I have a little case going. The assignment is about following that bitch and finding out where she goes during the week. That ought to really creep her out; her reading about that.

What I'm gonna do, is find out who the hell's driving her to wherever she goes lately. She's had three different drivers - Bill, the cock, and the lady in the light blue car. I'm also gonna verify which direction they take off in. That way, we'll be parked a little way down the road ready to follow them when I see her current driver go by. Bill comes between 6:15 and 7:30, so I'll be on the lookout during those times.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1999 Woke up at 109 pounds.

Tom didn’t get picked for jury duty, fortunately.

Got my CDs yesterday. All but one came, cuz Pure Dance 1998 was out of stock. Linda’s new album, just like the last one, has not even one good song on it. I will never buy another album of hers again! I’m finished with her. She just cannot come up with hits like she used to. I’ll keep the album anyway. There were four CDs I didn’t like and if Tom doesn’t want them, I’ll have him bring them to Mary’s house so that anyone who wants them can help themselves. Or maybe Andy will want a couple of them. One’s a Marvin Gaye album, one’s the Grease soundtrack (which I thought had other songs on it that I’d like that I don’t have on other CDs), and the others are oldies. The shittiest of the oldies. The ones I like are these two Fleetwood Mac albums. One is of them performing live, the other’s other artists doing some of their hits. Got one of Heart, Hall & Oats, Janet Jackson, Styx, The Mamas and the Papas, and a couple of disco albums.

We didn’t have sex during the weekend. I guess what Tom’s doing is understanding that the sex got a little old, and therefore, he’s giving me a break from it, although we haven’t literally gone “back to the basics,” so to speak. He’s taken this really well, though, as no other man would, and for this I’m really grateful. He’s one of a kind! I don’t know when we’ll return to sex. I guess I’ll leave that up to him. I know that sex, when we do return to it, will be predictable, but hopefully, the urge to get off with him and not just with the vibrators will have returned, but I’m afraid deep down that this is where I’ll stay. Only time will tell, though.

My little night prowler stayed home last night, and it looks like he will tonight, too.

Later…

I’m a little tired this evening. That’s because I only slept for six hours. Seeing that I’m just a hobbyist and a homemaker, I can certainly live with it. Especially since it doesn’t have to be for four months that I’m deprived of my sleep.

At this point, I believe there’s either a 50/50 chance one of us has something wrong in the plumbing department or a 50/50 chance nothing’s wrong at all. It’s either one or the other. I’m not totally sure something’s wrong, I’m not totally sure nothing’s wrong. Whichever it is, it’s God’s will and they both mean the same thing, whether I ever want a child again or not - a child will never be. It’s not destined.

Tom guesses that by the year 2000, I’ll have a total of 12 dolls (not counting Barbies). That sounds reasonable. He guesses that by the year 2001, I’ll have 75 dolls between those I buy and those I make. That many?! I’d say more like 15-20 by then, but we’ll see.

His ma gave us $100 each to gamble with, which we’re gonna do probably tomorrow morning. This was very nice of her. I’m gonna try to get a doll either way. Meaning, I��m gonna try to only gamble $30-$40 so I can watch the next doll show and see if I can get one I like, but as far as Glenora goes, I think I can pretty much write her off as a lost cause. I don’t think we could find her if there are any more of her left.

Tom took Ma for her appointment today. Now they’re worried about her heart, I guess, so they did a test on her and are gonna do more tests to find out if a valve is leaking or what. She said she won’t have a triple bypass done if she needs one. I don’t blame her, although those aren’t such a big deal anymore. But still, why put yourself through it if you don’t even have two more years to live?

Last Friday I left Andy a message after he told me he was gonna start that job with the bank Monday, to leave me a message Monday after work to let me know how it went. As figured, though, there was no message. Like I was surprised? Right! He probably never even showed up for work. Anyway, not only did I not get a message from him over the weekend, I didn’t get a message in response to my asking him if he wanted the CDs I don’t like. Is something wrong? I don’t sense it, so to speak, and I hope not. Maybe he did go to work and is just too busy to discuss it.

Later…

I’m reading my last book now and will need to go to the bookstore this week. I’m reading The Guardian which was based on the movie that Norah was in where she looked her best in 1990. At first I wasn’t gonna get too many books based on movies I’d seen, because then I’d really know what the book was all about. Books are pretty predictable as it is. However, the book versions are slightly different than the movie version. There are some twists and turns. So, since I’m getting tired of getting ten books only to end up liking half of them, I may as well get books that I know I’ll like.

Tom told me all about his day in court. He said he was sitting in for jury selection on two different trials. The first one was a guy charged with aggravated DUI. The judge would begin by asking a series of questions. The first was “Do any of you know me or my family?” I joked to Tom that he should’ve answered, “Yeah, I know you! You were my daddy in a former life!” There were questions asked like “Does anyone here not drink?” (because the case was about drinking). So Tom said he didn’t drink, then he was asked why he didn’t drink. He said it was because he didn’t like the taste of alcohol or its effect on the body. That disqualified him immediately.

They were asked if any of them were related to anyone in law enforcement, and Tom jokingly thought about saying that his wife works for the FBI, since I’m always spying on the freeloaders and investigating this and that, in a sense.

He said he was surprised at how many professionals were there. There were several doctors and lawyers and other so-called hotshots. He thought there’d be more lower-class people. There was a cop too, as a potential juror who was asked if he’d automatically side with the officers testifying in a case. He said yes and the judge said: “Leave.” Typical, typical pig too, to side with a fellow officer no matter what.

He said the second trial was one black that beat up another black. Tom said he feared he’d get picked for this trial cuz he couldn’t answer yes to any of the questions asked. One of the questions asked, naturally, was “Is anyone prejudiced?” I was kind of surprised no one answered yes. I mean, this may not be 50 years ago, but still, there still are and always will be, people who hate blacks. Or “African Americans.” Or “people of color.” They keep rewording their so-called description. They were “colored” in the 70s.

Speaking of blacks that I consider assholes, after President’s Day, which will be on Andy’s birthday on the 15th, there’ll be a whole six weeks before the next holiday - Easter! Can you believe it? A whole six weeks. Wow! Will they act up and make complete assholes of themselves like they did last Easter? If they know what’s good for them, they won’t, cuz last Easter, they were despicable! They blasted in and out, they had ten kids playing ball for what was it? Three hours? It couldn’t have been more obvious that it was aimed at me.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1999 Tom went to the racetrack today. I told him that I strongly vibe that neither of us is destined to ever win anything big. I told him he wouldn’t win anything big today, but to have fun anyway. Then he swore he’d change destiny and win $200 and find that doll I want and get her. I was asleep when he got home, but when I got up, I told him, “I told you so.” Sure enough, he not only didn’t win anything, but they also canceled the races after four races.

Between a water pill and watching what I ate, two days ago I woke up at 108 pounds, and today, 109.

Did up a letter to Tammy.

For Andy’s birthday, I’ll be mailing him a wacky letter with a $20 bill stuffed inside.

I set up Bailey in yet another pose. For a long time, she sat on one of the stereo speakers. Then I put her on the floor with one hand on a stuffed wolf, then later holding Barbie by the back of the neck as she stood on the floor next to her, and now she’s kneeling by Maria. I didn’t think this doll could kneel, cuz I thought her knees weren’t bent enough, but obviously I was wrong. Since Bailey and Maria are about the same size/weight, I weighed Maria just to see how heavy this doll was. She’s only three pounds. I was surprised. I thought she’d be closer to five.

The little night prowler should be out and about any time now. Porky still walks around the outside of his cage at night.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1999 Just broke the second dog cup I ever broke. Of course it had to be my three Dalmatians, one of my favorites.

The weekend was quiet. I'm surprised the freeloaders let us have two weekends in a row of peace with no ball games or anything. Guess they feel we've been paid back enough for the roofing noise, cuz remember, she wasn't home throughout most of it.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1999 The neighborhood was quiet today. Didn't hear the renters. Didn't hear the freeloaders. Bill was next door, but that's all I saw from over there. Is Bill really that lonely with no life at all? Or does he know and resent in any way shape or form just how much he's being used by that bitch?

Just when I thought my period was over, I've had spotting today. What? Am I gonna go the other direction and have my period, then spot, rather than spot first, then get my period?

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1999 Well, Tom is officially on vacation. It rained today too (at least my lungs are better), but at least for his sake, you can almost always count on a beautiful weekend in Arizona, cuz he wants to go to the racetrack Sunday. Tomorrow, he’s gonna shop for fun stuff for himself. He was supposed to do this a while back, but for various reasons, he never got around to it. He needs a new wallet, and maybe he’ll pick up a new computer game or something.

You know how I said something always comes up on his vacations? Well, two days are shot already, cuz he has jury duty on Monday, and he has to take our daughter to the doctor next week, too. At least his mother was kind and generous enough to offer to pay for us to go to Laughlin, but we decided against it. We don’t want to spend six hours on the road each way and not sleep well. Well, I wouldn’t sleep well. We’d rather go to the casinos on the Indian reservation and while we’re at it, we’ll check out some land in that area. If there’s any available to check out. We’ll have to look online.

A really loud stereo just thumped by, so I lost my train of thought. Where was I? Well, let’s just say we don’t have any big plans for this vacation. I just hope it’s a pleasant one.

I don’t know if we’ll break our routine of weekend sex and have it during the week since he’s on vacation, but to tell you the truth, I really hope we don’t. I mean, I don’t see how going back to basics and doing the backrub scene and all that is gonna make a difference. What it is is plain and simple - it’s old. There really is no big problem here to figure out, after all. It’s just that sex is no longer new and exciting to me. At this point, if I need to get off, I can just get off with the vibrators. There’s nothing new to explore and experiment with him. Also, although sex is predictable, it’s familiar and comfortable.

I also want to do right by God and be a responsible person (along with helping to prevent something from happening that I don’t want to happen). Meaning I don’t want to have mid-cycle sex even though God’s seen fit to it that I cannot conceive. It’s sort of like having cops. OK, so you have them around to protect you, but should you still dump the responsibility all on the cops and assume that just because they exist, you can be stupid and irresponsible and go walking around alone in a bad area of town in the middle of the night? That’d be ridiculous. People still have to do the right thing and be responsible for their own selves no matter how well-protected they already are.

There’s a doll show going on at 8:00. I’ll be checking it out.

I’m having a serious setback with the weight. Woke up at 113 pounds! Yeah, I have been eating too much. Isn’t it scary, though, to see how fast I could undo nearly a month’s worth of work? I could eat my way back up to the mid-120s in time for my next appointment with Melanie on the 22nd and be the same size I was when I first saw her. No prob. Anyway, I’ll be pushing myself really hard to make sure I don’t have more than 1000 calories. I even took a water pill to give me a head start, even though it’s after my period. Yeah, my period’s just about over. I’m gonna be sooooooooo hungry. Food is all I think about! Those Chromium Picolinate pills became more and more worthless, so I’m on my own as far as dealing with hunger pangs go. It’s either go hungry or eat and get fat. Real fat. I’m gonna go hungry till I’m about 40, but after that - I’m gonna live it up. No, I’m not gonna eat like a pig and eat nothing but junk, but I’m not gonna deprive myself either, and spend so many hours being hungry.

Later…

Well, I peed off nearly three pounds and am down to 110½.

Tom says Mary’s got some sort of problem with her stomach or intestines, but that’s all I know. I know she’s gonna live, but I don’t know if she’s gonna need surgery.

Tom and I were debating over whether Bill really ever had lymphoma. He insists Bill wouldn’t shave his head and that that was real chemo baldness. But guys aren’t into appearance like women, so if he wanted to pull some bullshit lie for attention that required him shaving his head, he’d do it. Maybe the sick fuck really did have it, but I like to say he lied about it. I mentioned his lying about it in a letter to Tammy and she never insisted I got the wrong idea, so who knows for sure? The point is, whether or not he did have it, I guess you could say there’s a little Dureen in me who likes to add lies to the truth out of anger and hatred. Although, this is human nature in a way. So, besides admitting certain things about Bill that are true, I kind of like the idea of calling this little shit a liar and making up shit that never happened, to add to shit that did happen. I love to hate people like him.

Andy left a message telling me he was mugged by five people. Thank God he wasn’t hurt. He said he knows where they live and that he’s gonna have some guy in the neighborhood take care of them for him. He’s gonna have one guy take on five guys? Right!

Then he told me some good news, but then again, it’s not good news, cuz he won’t let it be good news. Through the temp agency, he’s gonna be working at Bank One (as a clerk for 7:50 an hour, Monday through Friday, 8 AM-5 PM) for what they say is to be three months, but he says will end up being only three weeks, cuz of jobs they’ve said before that would be for three months that turned out to be only for three weeks. As Tom said, this is a good job to have and if he does a good job, they’ll hire him permanently. But he doesn’t want a permanent job and he doesn’t want full-time work. I don’t care what he says, he only wants part-time work in different places. He may keep a job for a while if it’s part-time, but if he were given a full-time position, he’s gonna set himself up for firing. He’ll open his mouth and practically beg to be fired.

Even he’s admitted to liking little vacations and having free time to bum around. Is he always gonna be such a sad sad case? Such a loser?

Porky’s become quite the prankster. He’s taken to walking around the outside of his cage and for the last three nights in a row, I caught him on the outside of the cage and had to yell at him to get back inside. That little shit! It’s kind of cute, though. It’s like the little devil knows just what he’s doing too, cuz he seems to usually do this only when I’m around to see it. Sort of like a cat getting negative attention by climbing on a table it’s not supposed to be climbing on, knowing its gonna get yelled at.

This is the second day in a row that I haven’t heard or seen anyone other than Bill from next door. She’s not out partying or doing something tonight, though, cuz there are lights on inside and no porch light on.

Tom brought up a good point about them if they were to move first, which I highly doubt and don’t sense. He says they won’t do anything to the house. He said they may play loud music while loading up, but they wouldn’t do anything to the house. He said burning it down is out of the question, cuz it’s awfully hard to burn down a brick house. True. But they still may smash windows or do other vandalism.

Later…

The good thing about the doll shows is that at the beginning of each hour, they show a quick preview of the dolls they’re gonna sell. So at 9:00, I’ll get a preview of the last hours’ worth of dolls. So far, none of the dolls are impressive. Just their prices. There was a 24” vinyl baby doll, not that I’d want it, for just $17!

Last night, at the same time as the night before, that guy from the Embassy Suites hotel called back with his vacation deal shit. I told you he would. I’m good with people. I didn’t let him get any further than where he was calling from before I went off on him. I knew it was him, though, by what time it was, and I also recognized the voice instantly. Tonight, I took the phone off the hook and will leave it off till 9:00, cuz I don’t want to be distracted by the phone constantly ringing. I’m surprised the little fuck didn’t leave a message last night. Maybe hearing a man’s voice discouraged him, but somehow, I doubt this.

Later…

I saw the rest of the dolls, and they were all either shitty or so-so, till I saw Glenora! Oh my God! She was 24” at $70 with ordinary hair just to the waist and an ordinary face, but her outfit! It was like - wow! It was a mint green colored crepe skirt with a matching top, but what made this doll so unique was that her stomach was exposed. The top is sort of like a midriff. It was beautiful, and there are just not enough outfits like these. She had on nice lace shoes and was holding a basket of flowers. She was really nice.

They had a 33” doll for just a little over $100. You could never get a deal like that in the stores! The store’s dolls that are around 30” are usually $400-$500.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1999 Didn’t like Nightmare’s Child, so I’m now reading Billy and it seems better so far. It’s about a child who’s stalked and abducted.

Two days ago I told Tom that I had a moderate-strong vibe that his sore throat would finally, after nearly three weeks, go away. He told me today that it’s almost gone.

Once again, Bill left at 4:30, but then I didn’t see any cars since. Guess the bitch slipped in while I was listening to music or something.

Anyway, I thought I’d write till the slew of sales calls that’s to hit any sec now distracts me. Hopefully, the renters won’t distract me anymore tonight, either. Yeah, the white car just banged in, but not with all bass. All drums. Still, it wasn’t loud enough or often enough to do something about it. I thought it was the silver car next door at first.

Once again, these renters are so damn weird! I think there are something like three adults living over there. I think one was inside or going inside, while a guy and a girl stood outside in this damp rainy weather hugging. Why the fuck would people want to hug outside on such a miserable night?

Tom told me to get him up if it went beyond just a drizzle out there so he could go up in the attic and see if he could see where it was leaking, so I did.

Amazingly, the back room’s not leaking at all. Not yet anyway, but as I told Tom, we’ll never be allowed to fix this roof. It will always leak somehow, somewhere. I don’t know if this roof is forever hexed to anyone who may ever live here, but I do know that as long as we’re here, we won’t be able to fix it. I told him this a long time ago and so far, my vibes haven’t failed.

He insists he was stupid and put a section of the roof on backward while he was tired. Whatever. It’s God I’m pissed off at, though. He’s so mean to Tom. He’s so mean to us. He just won’t help us help ourselves. To me, it’s just like Tom would’ve worked as long and as hard as he did to put the new roof on, only to have some sick fuck come and tear parts of it up. That’s how mean God is. Or something is. I never was one to swear it was God for sure, but if there is a good God of any kind up there, why is he allowing some evil source to do this if it isn’t him that’s doing this? Could the evil source perhaps be stronger than he is? We just want to be left alone. We don’t need these constant setbacks. I warned Tom, too, of the consequences of going against God. If he tries fixing this roof, it’s only gonna get worse. Or something else will go wrong. Then he said that there were two leaks, and when he got one to stop, the other got worse. See? This is exactly the kind of compensation I’m talking about.

I asked him why he wastes his time and sleep trying to fix something that can’t be fixed, and he said that it’s in his nature to not stop trying. Could’ve fooled me. Then if he’s the one wanting more sex and a kid, why’d he stop trying for full-time sex and a kid? (not that God would allow him/us to do this or that that’s what I want) His lame excuse was that you can’t get pregnant during your period, which I have now. True. But neither can you if you don’t screw a woman when she’s mid-cycle, get off in her, and aren’t fertile (or are fertile, but not allowed the right to choose to conceive if you want to). He said that’s why he wants us to go back to basics. He says it’ll up the sex and all that. I don’t want to up the sex, I want to just enjoy it. Also, we can’t up the sex, cuz we can’t change our busyness and schedules.

This period has been the most normal period I’ve had in months and I haven’t needed any ibuprofen. I did have spotting yesterday, so I thought I’d do that till around Saturday or Sunday, but nope. Although it’s still short and light compared to most women (God could never let me be like most women!) it’s normal enough for me. I wish all my periods could be like this. Although the PMS did catch up to me in the end, it was physical. Not mental.

I’ve slacked off on my exercising again, so I want to get back with that even if they don’t do much for me. For most women, as Tom pointed out, they’d help. That’s because most women are trying to get close to my size, but since I’m already where most women are trying to go, they don’t do much for me. If I were 140-180 pounds like most women, then I’d notice more of a difference from these exercises. I’m still heavier than I have been. Woke up at 111 again.

If there’s any good to this rain, it should help clean the air and give my lungs a break from being tight, even if it’s only for a couple of days.

Andy called and left a message saying, “Sure, sure, sure, lonely, lonely, lonely.”

Gee Andy, I really needed that. God, people and the things they do just for attention and just to be acknowledged. Of course, as I knew would be the case, not a damn thing about my losing Ziggy (I told him about her on his machine yesterday). Not even a simple “I’m sorry” from the selfish thing. He’s another one I contemplate walking away from when we move. I just don’t need him. I don’t see why he needs me, either. I mean, he’s still in Springfield and I’m not. I may not have made as many changes as I’d like, but look where he is and look where I am. It’s not that I look down upon him and consider myself better than him, I just don’t consider us to be as compatible as we used to be. We don’t share the same interests, routines…nothing. But I don’t want to try to control or change him. He doesn’t have to be just like me. I want him to be himself and do the things that make him happy. I just want to move on, so to speak, as I have. I just feel I’ve outgrown him.

Tom says there’s something serious going on with Mary medically. He wonders if she may have some kind of cancer or growth within her liver. Oh, God! Just what she needs. Just what this family needs. If she’s got cancer of the liver, she’s dead. Why God? Why the good people? Why do the good people get cancer while the sick fucks like Bill G get curable cancer? Mary may be a user, but she’s still much better than your average person. Just like Tom’s mom and several members of Tom’s family. Mary, Dave, Tom, and I have a full enough plate between having to deal with dad, and now mom. We don’t need problems with Mary, too. I don’t have any death vibes, and God help us all if I’m wrong, as strong as the life vibe is! Where would Ma live? I can’t picture her staying with just Dave and his son who comes on weekends.

As Tom said, though, this is Mary’s own fault. You can’t live on grease, and that’s exactly what she’s been doing for so many years, but she just doesn’t care. She refuses to eat anything other than McDonald’s. In a way, I envy her and her carefree ways. I wish I didn’t give a shit about what I ate and how I looked and how cluttered and dirty my house was. No one that eats at McDonald’s every single day with such dedication, gives a shit about how they look. She’s got a man’s attitude, and if there was one thing and one thing only that I wish I had that most men have, that’s that I wouldn’t give a damn about how I looked or what I ate. I’d let the house be trashed and not care, either. Mary’s house is one of the filthiest, sloppiest, cluttered, disgusting, ugliest houses I ever did see. Not the house itself, but what’s inside the house. She gets this from her parents, though. Tom’s the same way. It’s just that I won’t let him be, except for the back room, cuz I can’t stand to live in such a filthy cluttered mess. It’s depressing. I like things neat, pretty, uncluttered, and organized.

Maybe Mary will bypass McDonald’s on her way home from work one of these days, clean her house, and cook a nice meal that they all eat as a family at the dinner table. Not at the TV. But Mary’s gotta be Mary. We can’t lecture her like a little two-year-old and tell her how to eat right. Maybe she’s one of those who intend to live it up and who believes in having fewer better years, rather than more tougher ones where you deprive yourself of stuff you love. Some people are like that to the extreme, some are like me where they’re half into being health-conscious, half not. Some are health freaks.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1999 To start off with some sad news - Ziggy died. She was gone when I got up at 11:00 this morning. I knew yesterday afternoon that she was on her way out. I’m glad she went as fast as she did cuz with guinea pigs, it takes several days. She was my favorite mouse and sometimes I wish rodents lived as long as cats and dogs, but as Tom pointed out, that may make it all the harder. Tom buried her out back by the palm tree in the corner of the yard by the pool. There sure are a lot of animals out there. Two guinea pigs, two mice, a rabbit, a hamster, and a cat.

In better news, last night I got a great idea to pose Bailey holding a Barbie doll, so it looks like I’m gonna have a few Barbies after all. Up until last night, I didn’t think I’d ever get Barbies since they’re only 11½ inches long, but I like the idea of letting Bailey hold her at some point, and their outfits are just too nice to resist. But I’ve got a different idea of what’s collector’s Barbies and what’s not. Most adults collecting Barbies are getting ones that cost $40 and up and usually have their hair up in a bun of some kind or a French twist and gowns a lot like what the porcelain dolls wear. My brand of collector’s Barbies has really long hair that isn’t piled up in some form or another and that wears shorter, more colorful dresses, and costs only $10-$20. Also, I don’t leave her displayed in a box like most Barbie collectors do.

Barbies used to be basically white with blond hair, but then they got politically correct and made a variety of colors. I want to get a black Barbie too, and one of these days, probably after we move, I want to go to a regular toy store just to see what’s there, cuz I’m gonna have my own set of rules and decide what I think is a collectible doll for my collection. If I see a really nice doll, I’ll still get it even if it’s dirt cheap and made of vinyl.

Anyway, they had about ten different Barbies at the store. If I remember right, they were all blondes. One had colorful hair, but as much as I like colors and it would’ve been different, I just didn’t really dig it or its outfit. Barbies may have better outfits, but not every single one of them. There were a couple with pink dresses, but one had these tacky jewels on it, and they both had shorter hair that was about to the waist. This Barbie that I got has blond, straight hair almost to the knees. Her dress isn’t pink or mainly pink, but it’s beautiful nonetheless and shorter than any other doll’s dress that I have. It comes to the middle of the thighs and it’s got several different colors. Mainly purple. It’s short-sleeved and snakeskin-like. You can see the shiny scales. It’s got horizontal stripes of white, purple, red, pink, orange, and yellow. She had purple boots which I didn’t like, so I took them off. She has purple earrings and a purple ring. Since Barbie’s fingers aren’t separated, it’s kind of stapled on. More like an earring is put on.

She came with stud-like decorations in a cute little clear plastic case with flower, heart, and butterfly designs on it. That’s why the hair’s so long. To decorate it with beads of letters and jewels in four different colors - pink, blue, yellow and orange. I think this would look tacky, though, so maybe I’ll wait till I have a doll with a suitable dress to use them on. It comes with a thing that looks like a paper puncher that squeezes them together since little kids’ hands aren’t that strong, but I can use my hands with them. They go on like earrings.

I’ve got Barbie standing in the living room on the rack that holds the Nintendo games for now. I want to let Bailey sit with the little wolf for a while first.

When I realized that that’d make three dolls with long straight hair with bangs between Bailey, Barbie and Anne, I decided to give Anne a change for more variety. I didn’t have anyone with just one braid, but now I do. At first, I did the braid straight down the back which I wanted to pull in front so you could see it better, but it wouldn’t quite go. It was too stiff. So I braided it sort of off to the side so it’d go around the front better. I think I got it looking like a braid that’s pulled in front, rather than a side braid. I put a blue hair bubble in it since she’s wearing blue and no one else has a hair bubble. I’m building up my variety.

Bailey, Summer Dream, and Patrice look the most realistic. Out of my porcelains, Anne has the most colorful face. She has the brightest lips and eyes. Patrice and Barbie are about the same - 12” long, but Patrice is shaped and proportioned more realistically.

Been getting a lot of mail from Ashton Drake. They’re sending ads for dolls they have pictured in their catalog. A bigger picture of these dolls with more details about them.

Later…

Just cooked some ground beef and added sloppy Joe sauce to it for Tom for when he gets up at 11:00.

Today’s the first day in weeks where I’m stuck. This is typical PMS, though. I knew my period, which is starting now, would be late cuz of how easy my PMS was going. A few days ago, it got bad, though. My back’s killing me, I’m super bloated, and my tits are really sore. I’m not gonna get any real relief for a few days, though, cuz of course, I’ve got to spot for 3-4 days first. Can’t I just go back to getting my period normally? God, what a pain playing this spot game! I can’t wait for menopause.

My weight’s not doing too well. Part of it is cuz of water retention, but I also ate too much these last few days. I’m trying to back off the calories and get back to around 108-109 pounds. I’ve been 110-111.

Tom insists I’ve got a better body now than when we met. I’m glad one of us thinks so.

I was wrong in saying the smallest vibrator couldn’t get me off, cuz it did. I also further checked out the thing I’ve got that’s supposed to simulate sucking and it didn’t feel too bad at all.

We were gonna screw around Monday, but I just couldn’t get into it. We finally talked about my lack of appetite and all that. He took it well. I was afraid he’d take it personally and think that I love him any less cuz of it. I love him more and more every day. I’m just bored with the sex. I told him I wondered if it was due to my not wanting a kid anymore, or cuz of its predictability, and he said he’d think about some ideas to help. He seemed confident and not worried at all about it, which helped to relax me, although I myself wasn’t overly worried cuz Tom’s sexually tolerant. If we couldn’t screw for a year, he’d handle it just fine.

The next day he told me he had a possible solution, which is going back to basics. Meaning that we don’t need to change the sex (not that we could or he would be willing to, which is fine cuz our sex is fine as it is) but we need to be more physical with each other. Go back-to-back rubs and stuff like that. That sounds like it may be a great idea. I guess all couples need to do this every now and then. I used to think that only couples who were falling out of love needed to do this, but I see I was wrong. I’m not sick of him. I’m just sick of the sex. Better that, though than of him.

Evie got a full-time job at a daycare center. Great. I’m happy for her. I know she wanted to get the hell out of the house and make extra cash.

Porky decided to stay home last night, I guess, unless he went climbing around on the top and outside sides of the cage and I didn’t know it. He’s such a cutie. He’s not quite all brown. I describe him as having a chocolate body with vanilla feet and a tail tipped with vanilla. Yes, he has white feet and a touch of lightness on the tip of his tail.

I really hope we can look for land during his vacation and get out of here before June’s out! Of course, we’re gonna have to lie a little to anyone that we show the house to if they ask about noise. It’s quiet most of the time as far as music and people go, but not dogs. At night it’s usually OK dog-wise, but if they hear the collies, and they probably will, and ask if they bark much, no will be our answer. If they ask about the neighbors, we don’t know them. I’m certainly not gonna tell them, “Well the city bum next door’s a real sick bitch and God help you if the boyfriend moves back in, cuz if he doesn’t pummel these walls with his bass, he’ll do it with his car doors. He’ll slam them over and over again several times a day that you’ll think something was thrown up against the house. In fact, they’re both so rude and selfish what with the way they harassed me, that I had to complain to the city to shut them up.”

Another thing I noticed about the houses in Arizona is that their driveways can also fit two cars parked in them, but bumper to bumper. Not side by side like the driveways in New England. Guess that’s just part of how obsessed they were with getting these houses so close. Anything to save room width-wise to jam the houses together almost like teeth.

Later…

The renters were a little bit of a problem Monday night, but not too much for too long. It’s still nice to know they’re across the street and not next door. I’ve seen two women, a guy, a teenage girl, and a little girl, associated with that house. However, I don’t know how many people live there. There’s usually a red car and a white car there.

Remember how I said the guy played music for a while when he was working on the white car? It was nothing compared to what I used to get regularly from the freeloaders, but it was annoying enough. I got the same thing from the guy with the white car Monday evening, a little louder, for about five minutes. This time, though, I looked out at the guy, and with it being dark, he saw me. Hopefully, his seeing me sent the proper message to him, but time will tell. That’s what they want, though. They want you to notice them. That’s the purpose of owning one of these stereos. So others hear it.

That I know of, there’s been no music since, but I don’t have a bad vibe from these people. I mean, maybe once in a while I’ll hear their music, but I don’t see it ever becoming like the freeloaders. If I hear them as much as a few times a week, though, I’m not gonna bother complaining to them. First of all, it won’t do me any good. Secondly, we’re out of here soon enough. They’d have to play it loud enough to be heard over the fan and wake me up before I’d make them shut up for sure, do it real loud many times a day like the cock did, or for long periods of time. Meanwhile, a few minutes a week won’t kill me.

They’re so fucking weird, though. Both cars, but especially the white one, are in and out several times a day. Who knows when they work? I saw some weird shit yesterday, too. A woman I’ve never seen before loaded the back of the white car up with God knows what. I saw her make two trips. She seemed to have a long bag of some kind on the first trip, and a big empty red pail or basket on the second trip. Then she got into the car, started the engine, but sat there for about five minutes before pulling out. I thought I saw her swaying as if music was playing, but I couldn’t hear anything. Then a few hours later, she returned in a whole different car that I’d only seen that one time.

In the late afternoon, the white car was parked on the street with something pretty indescribable hitched to it. It was like a long, rectangular cart. It was about ten feet long and three feet deep.

In freeloader news, that’s another weird topic, cuz I’m totally lost on what the latest routine is. Usually, it’s pretty obvious, but now, I don’t know what the fuck they’re doing. It used to be obvious enough who’d pick up the bitch and bring her back, but now I don’t know.

The cock, who would sometimes visit with some other dude, are the same guys that went from the cranberry car to the silver car. At least I think they are. Guess the cock felt it was time for some car changes and that maybe explains why I haven’t seen the dark gray car he’s had for a while.

Anyway, Bill left at the usual time of 4:30, but did he leave the mistake at home alone till the two guys pulled in in the silver car a few minutes later? And did these guys pull in with the bitch? Anyway, the silver car played music today, but it was very soft. Totally acceptable. I saw a guy holding the mistake by the driver’s door when I glanced out and thought the guy had just gotten out of the driver’s seat and taken the mistake out of the back and into the house, but obviously, it was someone else and the driver never left his seat. I don’t remember who the guy with the mistake was, but the bald passenger, which I think is the cock, came to the passenger side of the car, took out something that looked like a black cloth briefcase, then went into the house. Then it came back, hopped in the passenger seat, and off they went. The bitch must’ve slipped out of the car before I noticed them, but why are they leaving the kid alone like that? Well, these people are sick, after all. It’s something they’d do.

Later…

The sales calls had backed off cuz I took a day out to tell them all to fuck off, but this evening, they started picking up again. I don’t want sales calls distracting the hell out of us during his vacation. His vacation is at risk as it is, with God making sure things come up to fill his time up with things we’d rather not fill up his vacation time with. The fucking calls are so distracting as it is in the evenings when I’m trying to write or read.

Anyway, I thought I’d put some effort into backing them off for the vacation, not that they won’t happily harass us again soon afterward if I can manage to back them off throughout the vacation. A guy called from someplace offering bullshit vacation deals and I told him to fuck off. I knew, though, that he’d call right back. I could tell by the tone of his voice and just my good judgment of character, that he’d try calling back for the last word. I threatened him too, and a male’s ego feels threatened when challenged physically by a female, so he called back twice, but as soon as it rang and I saw it was him, I quickly picked up the receiver and placed it right back down again. I’m sure he’s only given up just for tonight, though.

I know God is doing this to me for all the people I harassed via phone, but what about the music? Were the freeloaders to pay me back for people I’d bother in apartments with my stereo? I guess I must’ve bothered more people than I realized with my music.

I started a book called Nightmare’s Child, so I think I’ll do some reading now.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1999 I’m going to finish the book Visions of Terror, but first, I’m gonna update some stuff.

I didn’t get into my chat with Andy yet. Well, when I first called, he was doing one of his favorite things - eating. So he called me back when he was done, and we chatted about the usual.

I was right, Andy’s not going back east. The reasons he told me about his decision to stay here, were the exact reasons I figured he’d stay here for and that I recently wrote about. He said he feels too much at home here, doesn’t want to give up his house or this weather, and wants a relationship with a kid who smokes pot and cigarettes. What kind of maturity and stability can he get from an 18-year-old pothead, though? Doesn’t he feel he deserves better than some doped-up, immature kid?

He also said he lectured Barbara Nicks for standing him up. He was to meet her at her house to give her a Stevie demo, but Barb kept making excuses. Andy keeps insisting they’re friends, but it’s obvious to me that she’s not a true friend and she doesn’t want him at the house, even though he’s been there once before (but they talked outside). Anyway, he lectured her about her not leveling with him. I agree that she should just come out and admit it if she doesn’t want him at the house, but he can’t make her be or do something she doesn’t want to be or do.

He’s living alone now, still not interested in working full-time, and yet he’s all paid up on his bills and rent till March. When I asked him how he managed to do this on just a few hours of work a week, his answer was, “Something you wouldn’t approve of.” I knew right then and there that he was dealing. Yeah, he’s selling weed. Only to people he knows, but still, I hope he doesn’t get caught. I don’t think he will, though, cuz Andy’s always been super lucky at getting away with things. Remember? He’d make just as many, maybe more, prank calls, yet who was the one to get trapped over and over and over again? Anyway, he’s doing this to supplement his income and he says that throughout 1999 he’s basically gonna be a bum and keep living as he has been. Does this mean that at the turn of the century, he’ll seek out a full-time position that he won’t set himself up to be fired at? Even get a man and not a boy? Someone clean? If he wants someone clean, though, he’s gonna have to clean up himself. You know how it is, druggies want druggies, non-druggies want non-druggies.

My nose is all scabbed up cuz of the allergy attack I had the other day. My lungs are back to being tight again regularly. Especially at the end of my day. Tom says it’ll improve once we move. God, I hope so! I feel like I’m gonna be like this every day for the rest of my life.

I got sick of doing subject indexes, so I decided to take a break from that for a while. It was more work than fun. I saved what I began this year, the last few months of last year, and 1987-1990.

Fortunately, I’m not sore today. My teeth are usually sore 3-4 days after seeing Melanie. She put a wedge in where that one really crooked tooth is on the bottom to rotate it. So, till I see her again, I should just have random soreness. Usually, you go for a while without feeling much soreness anywhere, then you get a sore tooth. This means it’s getting ready to move. Then another tooth gets sore and it moves, etc.

It’s really weird when Melanie takes the bands off when she goes to change them (the bands are what do the pulling). When she takes them off, my teeth feel like they’re being pushed in the opposite direction, when in truth, they’re not being pushed at all without those bands.

Today I dusted and vacuumed the bedrooms and the living room. I cleaned the bathroom and wiped down the stove. Tomorrow, I’ll do the microwave and the countertops, but I don’t think I’ll bother with cleaning the refrigerator and the oven till we move. Same with the tub.

I didn’t change Velvet’s cage yet, but I changed part of the rats’. I washed down their shelves which were loaded with piss and shit and which stunk like hell. I didn’t change the sawdust in the bass of the cage yet, but I will soon.

It seems Porky, the little shit, has taken to squeezing through the bars of the cage and walking around on top of it. When I yelled at him he went back inside, so hopefully he won’t be an escape problem. I don’t feel like he will be, but we’ll see.

Once again, Ziggy doesn’t look too good. She is getting old.

I changed the mice’s setup by omitting the aquariums. Seven mice don’t need all the space they had, and this really gives me a break till we get a dishwasher. It’s cute and cozy and kind of neat for a change. Right now, they just have the biggest and the smallest of the three Play City cages, and the maze.

I loaded up the mice’s aquariums with their cute, colorful toys. Their accessories and all that stuff. I put all the T-tubes and straight tubes in the middle-sized Play City cage, and the curves in a box. So they’ll be organized and packed for when we move.

I’ll leave this strictly up to Tom, but as much as I love Velvet’s cage he built, I think we should just use it while we’re here. I think Velvet should be in Ratsy’s old aquarium when we move. That’s all he needs, cuz he doesn’t do anything. As big as he is, he just sits there, so he doesn’t need extra room. I’d have to change it more often, but it’d be worth it.

I called and asked Mom what she’d recommend as far as dusting my dolls are concerned. She agreed with me that because feather dusters are best on hard surfaces only, and since I can’t take a wet rag to their hair and clothes, I’d be best off taking them outside and shaking the dust out of their hair and clothes, so that’s what I did.

I put some of the dolls back in different places/poses.

I really wish I not only had more dolls Bailey’s size but as poseable as she is, too. That’s the difference, once again, between a $300 doll and a $50 doll. I had Bailey sitting on one of the living room stereo speakers, but now I’ve got her sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, leaning against it. She has one hand sort of on her knee, and the other on a stuffed wolf dog I’ve had for a while. She looks so natural. She’s so well-proportioned, unlike some of my other dolls. Maria’s knees are kind of low and her feet are too small if you ask me, but I still love Maria and am glad I got her. There are so many different poses I could set Bailey up in, though. I had her lying down on the footstool with her hair hanging off the side, reaching upward as if to be picked up. This looked so cute, but I can’t leave her there and there’s really no other place in this house to pose her like that. She’s still sitting next to Maria and they’re such a great contrast to each other. Bailey’s dressed so casually in her little sleeper, while Maria’s all decked out in her fancy, shiny satin outfit with her sparkling fan and veil. It’s too bad Bailey’s wrists and elbows don’t bend too. Then she’d really be poseable.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1999 I cannot believe how quiet the weekend was. Not one car door, person, ball bounce - nothing. The lights did go off when I checked at just after 9:00, so the bitch was there, and Bill’s here today as usual.

A silver car pulled up briefly just after I returned from Mel’s. As with the cranberry car driven by two guys, the driver, whom I couldn’t see, stayed in the car. I never saw who the passenger was either, cuz I didn’t actually see the car come or go.

Last night, at around 8:00, I was sitting at the computer when I heard a bark. I could tell it was close by and I’m thinking, Shit! She did it. The bitch actually went and got herself another dog for me to listen to, but I’ll just call and have the city kindly remove it. Then it hit me - why didn’t I sense it coming? I didn’t sense it, and changes among neighbors are one of my hot spots. So, I went out back and heard it again. I couldn’t tell for sure where it was coming from but was beginning to think it wasn’t quite loud enough to be just three feet away. So I got it going by slamming the recycle bin cover over and over again to get a sense of direction. It was then that I realized the old man replaced his dog, and I knew he would, too. So, that’s why it was sort of close, but nowhere near close enough to be next door. This dog shouldn’t be a problem cuz it doesn’t have a shrilly bark and we’ve got a garage and a street between us. Also, that’s the only time I’ve heard it bark, so for me to only hear that much over a 24-hour period tells me it’s not a big barker. It’s nothing like the dog the freeloaders had, and certainly nothing like the collies.

Went to see Melanie today and it was much easier than the last time. Maybe that’s cuz I took four ibuprofen pills an hour before seeing her.

She said my hair looked cute. I had thrown it up in a banana clip. She also noticed my nails, but as I told her, I plan to rip them off and be done with them since they’re such a pain. I asked her how she dealt with hers and she said she’s had them for so long.

I told her I was amazed at how fast my teeth were moving. The bottom teeth were so crooked that they overlapped. Well, now they don’t and they’re all straight except for one tooth.

The doctor came in and checked my bite and agreed that these teeth are flying. I asked how much longer on both the top and bottom braces, and he started teasing me by saying, “Well, the millennium…” Mel and I laughed. The bad news is that the top braces can’t come off till around July. I thought they were coming off in March. The good news is that the bottom braces will come off in July too. I thought they wouldn’t be off till December. He said something about using the braces as a retainer, but we’ll see. It’s cool that I get to get both the top and bottom off at the same time.

Just called Tammy to say hi, but she wasn’t home. Lisa answered, but was busy on the other line so I happily let her go, cuz I’ve had enough of the phone for one day cuz I talked with Andy for what seemed like ten hours. At least Lisa’s doing well. She sounded well enough anyway and said all was OK.

I’m still contemplating mailing Dureen, Art, and Larry certain journal excerpts just for the hell of it, but we’ll see. I still have plenty of time to decide this. If I’m gonna do it, though, I’m not gonna bother to involve Tom by telling him about it, and I won’t do it, if I do it, till we’re no longer at this number and address.

We didn’t get to screw around yesterday, but this time it was cuz of me. My allergies were going off like a son of a bitch, so Tom and I will get together after he gets up, which should be anytime now.

As I jokingly, yet sarcastically told him the other day - it’s pretty funny how the guy who claimed to get off most of the time now gets off very rarely since he’s been confronted.

Tom’s right. These renters across the street are weird. Really weird. They had some furniture and some paintings and stuff like that scattered about their front yard today as we were leaving for Melanie’s. Shortly after returning, the stuff was gone. We thought they were maybe setting up for a yard sale, as odd of a time as it’d be for that, but who knows what the fuck they were doing? Re-carpeting maybe?

There’s this afternoon barker that’s been rather annoying, so during the peak afternoon hours, I keep the fan on. I think it’s coming from one of the houses across the street, but I can’t tell which one. It’s not quite loud enough to be directly across the street, but I don’t think it’s in the old man’s yard.

That silver car showed up next door again and I could see what appeared to be the same two guys that were in the cranberry car. This time, though, one of them wasn’t just dropped off to run into the house and back out again, it was dropped off to stay. It had a red cap on backward. Was it the cock? That kid I spoke to on Tizzy Fit Day?

I called Andy since it’s been a while since we chatted.